The Collaborative Impact: Writing a Play with the ... - QUT ePrints

The Collaborative Impact: Writing a Play with the Collaboration of Actors

Katherine Lyall-Watson A play script and exegesis submitted for the requirements of the Masters of Arts (Research) Creative Industries Faculty Queensland University of Technology 2007

THE COLLABORATIVE IMPACT KEYWORDS: collaboration, collaborative theatre, group devised theatre, devising, playwrights, creativity, play building, play script, authorial control, theatre. ABSTRACT: How can a playwright share authorial control with a group of actors when creating a new play script? How does the individual playwright address matters of genre, form, style and structure to create a unifying theme, while remaining true to the dramatic intention and aesthetics of the group? What impact will the collaborators have on a playwright’s work? Will they help or hinder the writing process? This exegesis closely follows the creation of a new play, The Woods, in a process where the playwright intended to facilitate a collaborative process with the actors rather than act as sole author. Issues arising in this mode of working include the real meaning of sole authorship, aesthetic integrity and creative power balance. The analysis of these issues will have relevance for theatre practitioners working in collaborative contexts.

TABLE OF CONTENTS INTRODUCTION

1

RESEARCH PROBLEM

3

RESEARCH ARGUMENT

3

LITERATURE REVIEW

5

A definition

5

The writer’s role

6

Creator or scribe?

7

Working with actors

9

Copyright issues

10

METHODOLOGY

11

SCRIPT FOR THE WOODS

15

CASE STUDY

67

In the beginning there was fear

67

Germination

67

Time

68

Ideas

69

First meeting

69

Workshops

70

Eureka moments

72

Actors as co-creators

73

When collaboration harms

74

A changing process

76

From collaboration to isolation

78

Reflections

79

CONCLUSION

81

APPENDIX ONE (invitation to actors to be involved)

83

APPENDIX TWO (email response from D. Eady 21/07/06)

84

APPENDIX THREE (email response from K. Stevenson 2/07/06)88 APPENDIX FOUR (email response from K. Stevenson 12/11/06)90 BIBLIOGRAPHY 92

STATEMENT OF ORIGINAL AUTHORSHIP The work contained in this thesis has not been previously submitted to meet requirements for an award at this or any other higher education institute. To the best of my knowledge and belief, the thesis contains no material previously published or written by another person except where due reference is made. Signature: Date:

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Peter Cossar, Dan Eady and Kaye Stevenson – the three actors involved in the creation of the play script – for their generosity, patience and willingness to explore. David Megarrity – for the wisdom shared while supervising this thesis. Errol Bray, Elaine Acworth, Bette Guy and Paul Sherman (the on-campus cohort) for their ideas and insights regarding The Woods. And, most of all, my family – for enabling me to go back to study.

There is a popular myth about the way new plays are created: a writer labors in isolation for days, weeks, or even years and finally produces a finished script delivered to a producer fully formed and ready for production. (Kahn and Breed, 1995, p. xiii) Introduction Imagine a writer at work and most people will imagine a person sitting at a desk, scribbling in a journal. Or perhaps with a laptop, typing intently. Romantic stereotypes persist of writers, gaunt and pale, emerging from secluded garrets, completed manuscript in hand. Orhan Pamuk in his Nobel Lecture on receiving the Nobel Prize for Literature gave credence to the stereotype when he said the following: A writer is someone who spends years patiently trying to discover the second being inside him, and the world that makes him who he is. When I speak of writing, the image that comes first to my mind is … the person who shuts himself up in a room, sits down at a table, and, alone, turns inward … To write is to transform that inward gaze into words, to study the worlds into which we pass when we retire into ourselves, and to do so with patience, obstinacy, and joy. (2006) Australian author Kim Wilkins describes the popular Romantic myth about creativity as believing that: “ … creative people need to be sick, on drugs, isolated, in order to receive the kind of inspiration that pours forth without effort. But beware the constant intrusions of the mundane world, which can blow it all to pieces.” (2006, p.16) What I set out to do with this research project was to dispel that Romantic myth in the most dynamic way I could think of. Instead of labouring on my own to create a play I would work with other people, involving them as collaborators in the project. When inspiration touched me with its magical wings I would resist the impulse to go away and write down my new ideas. Instead I would wait to meet with my collaborators, talk about it with them, see what they thought and let their ideas cross-pollinate the inspiration I had found. What new and hybrid forms would we make together? Would four minds work better than one? And would I be able to wait for the others, to resist the lure of writing ahead, seeing where the play would go if left in my hands? The Collaborative Impact / 1

The results of this collaboration can be found in the written script ‘The Woods’ and in the case study, which traces its creation. But, for now, let’s go back a few steps and look at the way that plays are often created. As Kahn and Breed’s previous quote states, there is a popular myth (the Romantic myth) that the playwright goes away on his/her own, writes in isolation and comes out with a finished play script, ready for performance. The truth is that there are many variants between sole and group authorship of drama. Some writers work in isolation and come away with performance ready material, others use a combination of working in isolation and getting feedback: working on their own for a rough draft, having it read by others, getting feedback, going away and writing another draft, having it read, and so on. And then there are groups of performers who work together with a director or facilitator to create and perform a play. No writer is ever used in the process and the resulting play may never be written down, it may remain a performance text (used only to facilitate that performance, as a guide for light and sound cues etc.). (Allen and Pearlman, 1998) If you picture a grey colour scale with white at one end and black at the other and place the writer working in isolation at the white end and the performance group working without a writer at the black end, you would find playwrights working in every shade of grey between the two. The play that I wanted to work on in this research project would, I imagined, be a dark grey when placed on this theoretical scale. It wouldn’t be black – after all I would be involved in the process as a writer – but it would be darker than middling, veering into the inkier shades. The scale can also be seen as showing known and unknown fields. The white end is lighter because it is known and has been tested. The darker end is unknown, less explored, mysterious – holding obvious appeal to a researcher. The idea of working collaboratively excited me as a researcher and as a playwright. I was setting out to explore the impact working collaboratively would have on a piece of writing. I wasn’t thinking of collisions or force, although both of these are implied in the word impact, instead I was thinking of “the impression made by an idea [or] social group” (Collins, 2000 p. 773). It was the impact of other minds and other backgrounds that, in my mind, would surely benefit and improve the work. The Collaborative Impact / 2

For many playwrights the idea of writing collaboratively is abhorrent. Michael Gurr in a masterclass held at the Brisbane Writers Festival on 14 September 2006, stated that he runs screaming from the room if a director suggests the actors improvise one of his scenes. When challenged about this he went on to say, “I like people to have jobs. I like the writer to write and the actor to act”. In his view improvisation “… is a director’s creative thing, not a playwright’s.” (Gurr, 2006) I wanted to blur these traditional job descriptions, to share the joys and the onus of being creative amongst a group of people, to work together as cocreators. At least that was my intention as I set out as both the researcher and the playwright on a creative process that would have been challenging enough under more normal circumstances. Research Problem For many writers, writing a play is a long, time-consuming process. Having spent three years working on the first draft of a novel I suspected it would be the same for me. I was time-poor. I had a full-time job, a family and University deadlines to contend with. What I was searching for was a way to expedite and enrich the writing process. The kinds of enrichment I envisaged included detailed, welldeveloped characters, surprising plot twists and believable dialogue. Research Argument My intention with working collaboratively with actors was to speed up my writing process. I imagined that: [A] Four artistic minds could create a play much faster than I could on my own, and that [B] The influence of three other creative people would stretch my imagination and extend the possibilities of the play – making it a better play than I could have managed on my own. These two hopes were for two very different outcomes. [A] is a mechanical outcome. I wanted speed, an expedited process. Achievable, I thought, because I would be able to transcribe sections of our workshops and slot them straight into the play. I imagined our working environment as some sort of artistic incubator, where embryonic ideas could be discussed and speedily grown to full size. After all, Shakespeare, who is regarded by many as the The Collaborative Impact / 3

greatest and most prolific playwright of all time, wrote, not on his own, but on his feet with a troupe of actors improvising as they went along. I believe that, apart from his genius, it was probably the fact that he was working with actors, giving them situations and characters and letting them play, that facilitated his speedy writing. [B] is an artistic outcome, hard to quantify as better is a personal, subjective quality. I thought the dialogue would be better than I would come up with on my own, as dialogue was an aspect of novel writing that I had struggled with. More importantly, I imagined that the play’s social, philosophical and emotional scope would be greatly enriched by the inclusion of other perspectives and imaginations. By working collaboratively to generate and write a play I wanted to test whether four heads were better than one, in an environment where one head is traditionally assumed to be best.

The Collaborative Impact / 4

Literature Review COLLABORATIVE THEATRE – A DEFINITION ‘Collaborate’ is defined in the fifth Australian edition of the Collins English Dictionary as “to work with another or others on a joint project”. Schrage gives a much more elegant definition: Collaboration is the process of shared creation: two or more individuals with complementary skills interacting to create a shared understanding that none had previously possessed or could have come to on their own. Collaboration creates a shared meaning about a process, a product, or an event. (Schrage, 1990, p. 140) Group devising, devised theatre, playbuilding and collaborative theatre are all terms used for the process where a group gets together and devises or creates a play. Most, but not all, of these processes use a director to facilitate the devising. Many of them don’t use a playwright at all. The end product is often a performance text, which differs to a written text in that it is devised for a particular group to perform. It is not envisaged that it will go on and be performed by other people outside the devising process. A written text on the other hand is created so that anyone else can pick it up and perform a similar play to the one that the group or playwright intended. Catherine Oddey, one of the key thinkers and practitioners of devised theatre, describes collaborative theatre in this way: “A devised theatrical performance originates with the group while making the performance, rather than starting from a play text that someone else has written to be interpreted.” (1994, p. 1) This is in direct contrast to the traditional approach to play creation which: “ … assumes the priority of the written text, and is unable to deal with important questions regarding the nature of the collaborative devising process, such as the nature of authorship, the operation of random process, and the role of intuition and improvisation.” (Hancock, 2002, intro) Oddey goes on to say that: “Devised theatre is an alternative to the dominant literary theatre tradition, which is the conventionally accepted form of theatre dominated by the often patriarchal, hierarchical relationship of playwright and director.” (1994, p. 4) Collaborative theatre is not a new discovery. Shakespeare, Molière, Goethe and Brecht all worked with actors during early periods of text The Collaborative Impact / 5

development – just as devising companies do now. (Keßler, 2002, p. 63) But it is interesting to note that it is the playwrights whose names are remembered; few could name any members of their companies who may have offered considerable input and experience. The strengths a devising process offers script development are manifold. Work is created on its ‘feet’, where flaws and weaknesses are immediately obvious. Other eyes get to view the work as it progresses and offer feedback and different interpretations. “Devising is really collaborative writing in the broadest sense of the word ‘write’.” (Callery, 2001, p. 164) THE WRITER’S ROLE In traditional theatre companies the writer’s role is to write the play. The director then interprets the writer’s work and directs it in the way that he or she sees fit. Actors, composers and designers come on board and interpret the playwright’s script as seen through the director’s vision for it. There is little or no room for the writer once the play has gone into rehearsal. But collaborative theatre is not traditional theatre and hierarchies are frequently broken down. In most traditional theatre companies the playwright is seen as the creator of the script and the actors are there simply as interpreters. In a devising process the actors are given the freedom to be co-creators and, in many instances, the playwright is there to interpret, or shape, what the actors offer. “I do not see why one only has the right to be called an author if one has a pen. An improvising actor is an author, an author in the broadest sense of the term.” Mnouchkine (cited in Williams, 1999, p. 55) Caryl Churchill, a playwright who normally works alone, worked with a collaborative group, Joint Stock Theatre Company, for part of the process of

writing

Cloud

Nine.

Although

the

group

used

collaboration

and

improvisation in the early stages, Churchill then went away and finalised the script on her own. (Churchill, 1979, introduction) What is interesting to note among the companies that regularly use a collaborative method is how many of them seem to work without having any one person labelled as playwright. (Théâtre de Complicité, Improbable, Théâtre du Soleil, etc.) Either the group devises the play and it is never written down, or one of the group acts as a scribe, or a playwright comes in with a first draft of a script, which is then workshopped and developed by the group. Few companies employ a writer. The post-modern distrust of language seems to have spread into a distrust of writers. Yet The Collaborative Impact / 6

frequently the textual aspect of physical-based devised theatre – both the words and structuring that are the writer’s craft – is its Achilles heel. (Callery, 2001, p. 179) Many collaborative theatre companies get around this by working in a strongly physical way with very little text or by using a text-based piece, such as a short story or poem, as their starting point. (eg: Théâtre de Complicité’s production of The Three Lives of Lucie Cabrol 1994–1996, which was based on a story by John Berger.) Hancock sees the writer as an integral part of the collaborative process, as long as they are not controlling it: … writing cannot be isolated from the overall process of production. The activity of the author needs to be seen as located within the system rather than external or prior to it. Causation is then no longer a purely top-down process, originating with and controlled by an individual agent such as the writer or auteur. (Hancock, 2002, chapter 8) This was my intention for the research process. My role and my activity as a writer would take place within the research and the workshops – not before or afterwards. From this collaboration I would create the first draft of the play. CREATOR OR SCRIBE? It might seem that we can write plays in the same way as we rehearse – in other words, completely collectively; ideas, associations and experiences from different directions can flow into the text from the whole company and make it richer. But it is probably the case that once all these influences and ideas have been heard and explored, one person must hold the pen and fix the words on the paper. (Keßler, 2002, p. 63) Keßler is clear about the writer’s role as a conduit for the process of devising, and Oddey concurs, saying that the writer in a group devising process must be aware that they will often function as someone who “…transcribes, interprets and assembles the ideas of a group.” (Oddey, 1994, p. 56) She reminds us that this is not always a terribly creative part of the process. It is interesting to note the differing viewpoints in the literature on the role of the writer. Hancock (2002) sees the writer as playing an integral part, stating, “… the role of the writer in devising is central”. Yet, Gration argues against this centrality; “Somehow the myth that the writer is the centre of the The Collaborative Impact / 7

theatrical process has been taken as truth (not that there is no role for the author in the making of performances, just that their role is as a co-creator not the creator).” (Gration, 1996, p. 10) The divide between the playwright and the rest of the cast and crew isn’t limited to collaborative companies. Lattanzi describes the feeling of being the playwright on a set in a traditional company in the following way: And the playwright knows he's making everyone nervous, he knows everyone wishes he would just disappear. This makes him feel worse. Working on an – ugh – new play – the actors, directors, designers are immediately set off their game. Usually, these ‘real’ theater people work on something proven, with a track record... (Lattanzi, 2003) Working collaboratively with the rest of the creative team in the early stages of writing a new play is one way for a writer to combat the discomfort Lattanzi describes. The decisions are not the playwright’s alone. If things work the group can all enjoy the glow of success, when they don’t work there isn’t one person to blame. At least that’s the theory. In practice, if you are the group leader/facilitator/director then if things don’t work it’s your responsibility. Peter Brook notes that “it is woefully difficult to write a play”. (1968, p. 38) And that: “In theory few men are as free as a playwright. He can bring the whole world onto his stage. But in fact he is strangely timid.” (1968, p. 40) One of the many benefits of collaborative theatre is the way that it can be used to workshop problem areas of script. This point is made by Bray in his book Playbuilding. “It is easy to target improvisation sessions to specific points in a creative process or an existing script to test the processes of other work and to test improvisation results against existing results.” (Bray, 1991, p. 105) Both Bray (1991) and Hancock (2002) write about working towards a performance text rather than a written text. Hancock claims that Bray (in Playbuilding) sees no need for a writer or a director and sees the objective being that the devisers make the work their own, with the less outside assistance visible in the final product the better. Bray does talk briefly about writers when he notes that: “Writers can be helped and encouraged to write plays through playbuilding workshops.” (p. 105) and “New writers can benefit greatly from having their ideas tossed about in group discussions and in improvisations.” (Bray, 1991, p. 106)


WORKING WITH ACTORS It was of great interest to me to read about Mike Leigh’s ways of working with actors, as his films were one of my inspirations in choosing to work collaboratively. He [Mike Leigh] perceived that if, as a dramatist, he was genuinely to be in control of the material, he must get in on the ground floor of character-making and share that work with the actor instead of abdicating it to the actor and confining his function to an orchestration of what the actor comes up with. (Clements, 1983, p. 17) Working together to develop characters is one of the joys of working collaboratively. But I wanted to take it further. I wanted the actors to be involved in creating more than just character, I wanted the actors I was working with to also have a say in the direction and the plot of the whole piece. In some ways this goes against the traditional responsibilities of the playwright, even within collaborative settings: “The main responsibility of a playwright in a devising context, therefore, is to work with the director and actors to ensure that an interesting, surprising plot is generated from the source material.” (Keßler, 2002, p. 63) Many proponents of group devising talk about the need for compelling subject matter. “The choice of material is crucial. Ideally, whatever it is, it has to matter to everyone involved. At the very least, everyone needs to be able to respond imaginatively and bring their personal skills to the process.” (Callery, 2001, p. 172) This idea was reflected in one of the actors’ responses to my research process. Kaye wrote that: “To be truly collaborative I would have to feel that there was a story I really wanted to tell and in this way I would feel more of a sense of ownership.” (Attachment Three, line 30) Keßler (2002) sees it somewhat differently as he feels that it is the playwright’s responsibility to locate the first idea for the story. (p. 63) Among the groups who work collaboratively there are all sorts of different approaches and levels of participation. “Individuals cannot effectively go off and improvise drama situations on their own. For constructive work a group of people is required and, as with all groups, there must be a leader.” (Stanley, 1981, p. 1) It seems to me that actors are often kept in a child-like state, dependent on the director or playwright to come up with the situations and ideas for the The Collaborative Impact / 9

workshops. It’s refreshing to read someone like Gration who states that: “My work in theatre, therefore, attempts to celebrate the individuality of actors and recognise their role as co-creators in the process of making performances.” (1996, p. 10) Actors don’t just help with writing dialogue or with trying out scenes when you’re unsure whether or not they will work, they also reveal many things about the characters they’re playing, which would otherwise remain undiscovered. (Kahn and Breed, 1995, p. 17) Ariane Mnouchkine in her work with Théâtre du Soleil relied heavily on improvisation, with her work described as: … opening up to the possibilities of a group creative process to which each member of the company could contribute, building up a complete performance by means of improvisation. Her role was

to

stimulate,

then

to

control

and

shape,

these

improvisations. (Bradby and Williams, 1988, p. 88) I looked forward to working with actors as co-creators and felt confident that their input would enrich and benefit the final play. But I was aware that, to do this, we would need time to ‘play’ and I was concerned with the limited time we had (eight workshops). Could true collaboration be induced in such a short time frame? COPYRIGHT ISSUES When a group has the input of so many collaborators, how do they define the writer? Does one person have the right to take ownership of the final play and have their name attached to it as playwright? In England the issue is clearly stated: “With regard to issues of authorship or script control, the Theatre Writers Union supports the belief that whoever scripts the material within the group is the author, regardless of whether the play has been group devised or not.” (Oddey, 1994, p. 49) This is also the case in Australia where the person who writes the words down on the page holds copyright, regardless of whether the words are his/her idea or not. (Chan, 2004) It was important to me that if I was asking artists to collaborate with me on the creation of a new product that they would then be recognised as co-creators of the product. Although I hold the copyright to the final script, the title page lists the actors’ names with a credit for their creative input.


This creative input and the effects of collaboration on a playscript were about to be tested in a research process where I would try to discover what happens when a traditionally solitary process, in this instance playwriting, is opened up to actors, working as equals with a playwright. Methodology With a long background in theatre (as an actor, director and then theatre reviewer) I came into this research as a novice playwright with a good understanding of theatrical conventions and of what works and doesn’t work on stage. My approach as a writer is one that embraces feminist and socialist ideologies. It was a natural step for me to move towards participatory action research with its inherent respect for all participants. The process I would be exploring would also involve me using reflexivity, as articulated within Denzin and Lincoln: … reflecting critically on the self as researcher … It is a conscious experiencing of the self as both inquirer and respondent, as teacher and learner, as the one coming to know the self within the processes of research itself. (Denzin and Lincoln, 2005, p. 210) While working as both an actor and a director I have baulked at the power plays and authoritarian models often used in theatre. With the chance now of stepping into playwriting and research it was an obvious choice for me to commence a project that would attempt to dislodge the patriarchal, authoritarian models, which keep actors on the lowest rung of the ladder and afford them little respect. I designed and conducted my research using creative practice as my central research strategy. The model I chose as a framework for this creative practice study was a participatory action research model as described by Denzin and Lincoln. Participatory action research involves: “collaborative dialogue, participatory decision making, inclusive democratic deliberation, and the maximal participation and representation of all relevant parties.” (Denzin and Lincoln, 2005, p. 34) The framework for the research process was a series of workshops with the three actors who had agreed to be involved and myself. I had come up with a sketchy outline for a play and some possible characters for the actors to play. The Collaborative Impact / 11

We would get together and discuss ideas and then the actors would improvise scenes. The improvising would involve the actors getting into character and then seeing what happened in a given scenario. It’s a tool that’s been utilised by many companies, but less frequently by playwrights. Peter Brook describes the purpose of such exercises as being “… to lead actors to the point where if one actor does something unexpected but true, the others can take this up and respond on the same level.” (1968, p. 128) I set myself the goal of being the instigator, coming up with a framework for the workshops and creating an outline for the actors to colour in. I imagined I would then be able to sit back and simply transcribe their improvisations and, with a little bit of editing and rewriting, I would have a play. I saw myself, the writer, as being there for inspiration for the actors when things got difficult, but also being there quietly, to accept and interpret what the actors offered. To filter and reflect back to them. I saw it as a circular pattern: I would inspire them with an idea, they would create something, I would be inspired, I would create something, and on it would go. My creations would be in the form of ideas and written pieces of script, theirs would be ideas and improvised pieces of script. This process could be called ‘playwright led group devising’ as the actors would be working from outlines and ideas, which I, as the playwright, had given them. “… the combination of a sole authorial vision with the power of group-devising is a sure way to enrich the artwork itself. At its best, this combination can enable the discovery and realization of moments that surpass the expectations of either party.” (Megarrity, 2005, p. 37) My aim was to use collaborative theatre to create a written text that could go on to be performed by people outside of the group who had devised it. My role would be both playwright and researcher. There would be no director – just the three actors who agreed to do the project and me. Over the course of eight workshops, held between April and July 2006, I wanted to work with these actors to create the first draft of a play. I intended for the workshops to last for three hours each and take place fortnightly. The workshops would be transcribed and/or filmed for later transcribing. I would be involved in the process as a facilitator and a researcher and would transcribe the sessions to help create the first draft script. The draft would be read for a select audience and could then be redrafted by me, possibly using more workshop sessions with the actors or, if need be, working on my own. The Collaborative Impact / 12

As a record of the workshops we have the DVD footage taken, the journal I kept throughout the process and the book in which I wrote as a scribe in the early rehearsals. I kept recordings of the later workshops on DVD so that I could go back and see how much of the script was taken verbatim from the actors’ improvisations and how much had been written by me as the playwright. I also kept copies of the email correspondence I had with the actors (with their permission to use excerpts in this exegesis). The first part of the process was to find my collaborators. Before I approached the actors I came up with a brief outline of the play, complete with thumbnail sketches of the characters. A mother (Martha) and her son (Ned) live far away from any other people. Martha is terrified of the outside world and instils her fears in her son. One day she is forced to leave the house and, while she is away, a stranger arrives and upsets all Ned’s beliefs about the nature of the world. Martha returns to discover the stranger and they battle for Ned’s trust. I needed to find people who would be passionate enough about their craft to take on the project for the learning experience it would offer them, rather than for a monetary reward. I sent out approaches by email to actors who I felt would bring something interesting to the embryonic characters I had in mind. The approach is contained in Attachment One. It was important to me to be clear with the actors from the beginning about what my expectations were of them and about what they might get out of the process. I needed them to know that I would be asking them to be involved in improvising and working collaboratively and that there would be a time commitment. In an ideal world I would have been able to pay them for their work, but as it was I was asking them to work with me for their own experience/enjoyment and in the hopes that if the play was eventually produced they might end up acting in it. Initially, I looked only for the actors to play Martha and Ned. (I wanted the stranger to be a surprise when I introduced him/her, and wanted to wait to see how the early scenes developed before deciding what sort of third character to add to the play.) There was an initial meeting to discuss needs and expectations and to set parameters for the work. Over the next few months we met regularly for a few hours on the weekends, as part of our eight three-hourly meetings. The actors asked me to bring pieces of script for them to work off and these became the basis for


improvisations and discussions. The third actor joined us for the last three workshops at my invitation. In the first sessions I jotted notes and transcribed the bits of dialogue that intrigued me. In later sessions we used a camera to record the improvisations. There was always time to discuss the scenes and the actors were encouraged to share their feelings and thoughts about the characters and the direction of the play. I brought props and ideas for scenes to start off the improvisations. At the end of each workshop I would write up the scenes that had been improvised, no matter how repetitious they were. I kept as close as possible to the actors’ words and intentions, while trying to make the scenes dramatically interesting and weaving them into the overall structure of the play. Because the outline for the play was already in existence before we started working together, it was just a matter of improvising through it, from the start to the finish. Once we’d reached the end and tried a few different endings, the actors were able to take a break from the process. I then worked on my own to write a first draft of the play. This draft was adapted straight from the workshops, with very little dramatic license taken. My methodology determined that it didn’t matter what ideas I had or how much better I thought the play would be with some different trajectories taken, I stuck to what had transpired in the workshops. I wanted to see the shape of the play with as much of the collaboration intact within it as possible. At this point I also emailed the actors and asked them to send me any written response they were comfortable giving for my research. (Attachments Two and Three.) The actors were invited to come along and do a reading of the first draft and give their responses to it. Once this was completed I then undertook extensive rewrites of the play, taking control of it as a playwright and changing, cutting and adding scenes. The actors were invited to come back and work with an outside director to do a rehearsed reading of the third draft of the play for an audience. Any feedback given after the reading was noted (Attachment Four). It is worth noting that the existing literature is predominantly written by directors and facilitators and pays little heed to a writer’s process within a collaborative setting. This exegesis with its emphasis on playwright led group devising shows another aspect to collaborative work and details the ways that collaboration can help and hinder a writer at work in their craft.


Case Study To experiment is to make a foray into the unknown – it is something that can be charted only after the event. (Roose-Evans, 1989 p. 1) In the Beginning there was fear The germ of the idea for The Woods came in 2005 when I was sitting on my son’s bed. He’s a fearful child and I would spend hours trying to allay his terrors and convince him that he was safe so that he could sleep. As I sat there, I wondered what would happen if he had the sort of mother who didn’t do that. Who had her own fears and encouraged his terror instead of trying to dissuade him from it. It was a little seed but it took root inside me and I knew that I wanted to explore it and write about it in some way. Germination The idea for this play was sprouting wildly in my head but I tried to contain it. If I was going to work collaboratively with the actors then I mustn’t bring too much to the table to begin with. I must give them room to be creators as well. I came up with a simple outline for the play, enough to hopefully intrigue the actors I would approach and still leave them the space to come up with their own ideas. As I was approaching actors I hadn’t worked with previously I felt that it was important to give them an indication of the play’s likely content and of the research I would be doing, so that they could decide whether or not to participate in the project. The three-act framework that I had and the wording I used to approach the actors can be found in Attachment One, which is the email correspondence I sent to the actors I wanted to work with. I was very fortunate to have two talented actors agree to work with me from the outset. Dan Eady would play Ned. Dan was a young actor and playwright who had worked in intensive devising processes before. He had about him the feel and the energy I wanted for Ned and I was excited about working with him. Kaye Stevenson would be our Martha. Kaye was a wonderful actor, a consummate professional and someone who had worked professionally for decades. She conveyed both strength and a brittleness that I wanted to see in Martha. Kaye’s standing in the theatre community had me feeling very grateful to her for agreeing to be involved, but also a little apprehensive about working with her. (Peter Cossar was our third actor – he came on board towards the end


of the process. He was skilled in physical theatre and used to working on his feet and improvising and he brought a wonderful energy to the group.) Time The most successful companies using collaborative principles (like Théâtre de Complicité and Théâtre du Soleil) work on a play full-time, rehearsing every day for up to a year. “L’Age d’or took a year of improvisation to prepare and even then was subtitled ‘first version’.” (Bradby and Williams, 1988, p. 97) Rehearsal time isn’t limited in the same way that it is with most mainstream companies. “[Collaborative] works had a vital focus on process, with rehearsal and preparations taking months, sometimes years – a far cry from today's common four-week rehearsals.” (Luber, 2005) Ideally, there would have been funding to allow the group to meet regularly and for long sessions. Because I wasn’t paying the actors I didn’t have the luxury of time to play and explore. Instead I set up a schedule. We’d meet for three hours each fortnight. I gave myself a goal of eight to ten meetings. I hoped that this would be enough time to improvise scenes to flesh out the story, leaving me with enough raw material to construct a play. My starting ideas tended towards heightened naturalism and I envisaged the play’s events would take place in a chronological order. What’s important to note here is that many of the decisions were made by me prior to the start of the collaboration. I had chosen the characters, outlined the plot, set up the style for the piece and cast the actors. In retrospect it is easy to see this as a flawed beginning for a collaborative process. It had seemed imperative to me to make all these decisions because of the lack of time we would have once we started the workshops – I didn’t want to spend time discussing possible plots and playing styles as I thought that would prevent us from getting through all the material we needed to get through. The decisions I had made prior to beginning meant that we did get through the material needed, but the lack of time to ‘play’ had huge ramifications on the collaborative process, as will be explored later. I realise that this perception of lack of time is not unique – “In devised theatre there is always a sense of never having enough time to work.” (Oddey, 1994, p. 14) – however, the process we undertook would be short by anyone’s standards.


Ideas At the beginning I imagined myself as a catalyst. I had presented the actors with a figurative sketch, just a few pencil lines on a large sheet – two characters, a setting and an inciting incident – and I imagined they would run with the ideas, taking over areas of the page, adding their own lines and colouring it in. The way I had envisaged the collaborative process working was that we would all meet and I would give the actors a starting point, either a physical object, or an idea, or a question, and they would then begin to improvise around that starting point. Their improvisation could use speech, silence, movement or stillness. They would be exploring and enacting the moment I had given them and extending it to something of their own devising. If the improvisation was floundering then I could offer something else to try to spark it. (Physical objects that I brought along included a chess set, a hand-carved wooden figure and a snake’s skin.) At our very first meeting this idea had to be renegotiated. First Meeting Before committing to the project Kaye wanted to meet with Dan and me to make sure that we would all be compatible. We met at a coffee shop and talked. My journal from that day (28 March 2006) records the following: I talked about my ideas and then asked for their thoughts. Kaye said that she felt very frightened. Not of the character, or the situation, but of working without any script. Dan agreed with this. I suggested giving them scenarios to work from and said that I would be there to throw in ideas, help move things along, provide stimuli, etc… Both said this would be good but didn’t look convinced. Kaye said she’d really like some script as a starting point. I explained that I hadn’t wanted to start with a script as too many decisions would be made by me and I wanted their input. I

realised

this

was

way

too

scary

for

the

actors

and

compromised and said that I would try to write a few pages for our first rehearsal – Sunday 2 April. As can be seen from this extract, I changed my idea of collaborative working before we even began. It’s interesting in retrospect to look at why I did this. Why didn’t I just tell the actors that the idea for this process was to The Collaborative Impact / 69

improvise, and that if they weren’t comfortable doing that then I would need to look for other actors? Perhaps it was because I was intent on this being a democratic process – on sharing power with the actors – that I felt I had to compromise and find ways to make them comfortable rather than pushing to get what I wanted. Then there was the fact that I felt indebted to the actors for being involved in my project. Being in their debt meant that I would do anything in my power to keep them happy and comfortable. Another factor was certainly the timeframe. Approaching and finding other actors would put me behind in my schedule and add more pressure to the process. For all these reasons, I ended up creating a piece of script before the actors had had a moment to explore, let alone inhabit, their characters. I was making decisions and shaping the characters when that had never been intended in my methodology. Instead of the characters and the plot evolving through the actors ‘playing’, decisions were being made unilaterally by the playwright. I wasn’t the only one to feel frustrated as can be seen by Kaye’s feedback. “Have, at times, felt a bit frustrated with the process. Earlier on I wanted Katherine to have more material for us to work on.” (Attachment Three, line 46) Workshops In companies working on group devised plays there is almost always one person who takes on an authoritative role. Normally a director, but sometimes a facilitator or workshop leader. Although I had made all the decisions and choices prior to commencing the workshop process, I still initially tried to divest myself of the authority I held as the playwright and researcher. I did this by playing low status, deferring to the actors, and acting as a scribe. This was rejected by the actors, who wanted me to take more control. They wanted prepared pieces of script and wanted me to be able to answer their questions. I then took on the role of facilitator/director and the workshops became what I’ve termed a ‘playwright led group devising’ process. As a playwright this is an extremely useful way to work. You can have an idea and try it out with actors who understand the characters really well and see whether the idea works and where it takes the characters. The main method used in workshops was improvisation. For some participants this was easier than for others and the slowness of the pace of the work and lack of perceived results caused some difficulties. Trust is an essential The Collaborative Impact / 70

part of working collaboratively and in improvisation, and for this group of strangers it was a struggle to reach the level of trust necessary for risk-taking in the short time-frame we had at our disposal. The actors’ desire for scripts in the early workshops meant that we didn’t do the improvisations and character work that I had hoped for. Instead what tended to happen is that we’d sit down, read the script, talk about it and then they’d get up and do an improvisation that followed on from what we’d just read. It was ironic that I’d wanted to liberate the actors and give them limitless possibilities only to discover that they wanted tight parameters and defined boundaries. I struggled from the first workshop to find a way to enmesh my writing in the creative process of the improvisations so that the actors were my cocreators. While I don’t feel this was ever truly achieved, by workshop four I was able to take a more hands-off approach, feeding ideas and suggestions, watching the improvisation, talking about it with the actors, taking on their feedback and then trying another improvisation. This experience was enhanced by the use of a video camera to record the improvisations. My time constraints imposed an imperative need to achieve concrete results from each workshop so that we could get through the research process in the eight sessions I had allocated. This prevented us from ‘playing’ in workshops and letting things happen in their own time. It also put constraints on the collaborative process and imposed hierarchies I’d planned to avoid. Instead of letting things flow organically and take their own shape I was setting scenes and tasks for each meeting and racing to reach outcomes I’d set for the process. Although I’d set out to work collaboratively, my own need for control and to meet deadlines meant that I felt pulled, constantly, towards a hierarchical structure. Perhaps it was me rather than the actors who had to learn to trust. I’d give the actors a scene or set of circumstances and then ask them to start an improvisation based on these. If the improvisation seemed to be collapsing I’d call out new circumstances or give the actors an objective to try to attain. What I was collaborating in was turning out to be exactly what I’d been trying to subvert: the sort of top-down process where most of the ideas were originating from and controlled by the playwright. This was borne out by the feedback I received from one of the actors at the end of the workshop process: … it feels as if in this process the improvisation is rather secondary to the creative process as a whole … it seems as if The Collaborative Impact / 71

the improvisational scenarios are being utilised as possible sources

of

inspiration

or

for

pockets

of

discovery

and

experimentation rather than the main platform of creation. It does

feel

like

a

play

that

ultimately

is

being

'written'.

(Attachment Two, line 86-90) At the end of the workshop process, as I was writing the first draft of the play, I asked each of the actors to send me their feedback on the process and to let me know whether they felt it had been collaborative or not. Two of the three sent detailed emails, the third had only been involved in the last few workshops and didn’t feel able to comment. While much of the case study is my own interpretation of events and the conclusions I have drawn are my own, I have been informed throughout by the feedback and suggestions offered to me by the actors. Eureka Moments Although much of the scene work that came out of the workshops was defined by the actors and myself as repetitious and less than inspiring, there were, thankfully, some eureka moments where the improvisations brought something new and startling to the mix, something that I would never have imagined one of the characters doing or saying. The characters and the plot both grew and expanded exponentially because of the experiences and ideas of the actors involved. One of the most important elements in the play, Ned’s crippled body, came out of a discussion before we commenced the workshops. We were about to start our first improvisation and Kaye was expressing her concerns about the whole concept for the play. She couldn’t fathom why Ned didn’t just get up and leave. “Surely,” she kept saying, “he would have gone out and explored the area and found out that his mother wasn’t telling the truth long ago.” (Workshop, 2 April) I was forced to come up with reasons to explain why he hadn’t. Her questioning and doubt in the feasibility of the story made me suggest that perhaps Ned was crippled and that was why he had never left. The fairy story parallel that goes through The Woods came about when the actors started to engage in the process. They had already asked “why?” which had led to Ned’s crippled state, and now they asked “what if?” “Would they have anything to read?” Dan asked. “Maybe.” I replied. “Maybe a bible or a dictionary … or a first aid manual.”


“What if they had a book of fairy stories?” suggested Kaye. “The Brothers Grimm! Something really dark that would reinforce everything that Martha said.” (Workshop, 2 April) And so Hansel and Gretel became an integral part of The Woods. Actors as co-creators All evidence of the actors’ interest and commitment to the project thrilled me. I had been inspired by a principle found on the website for Théâtre de Complicité: A piece of theatre is, ultimately, in the hands of those who are performing it. The actors. It is they not the director who must have the whole piece in their every gesture, hearing the meaning in each word. And to do that I think, as an actor, you have to feel that you possess the piece. And to possess the piece you have to be part of its creation. Involved intimately in the process of its making. (McBurney, 2006, website) I brought this quote with me to our workshop on 23 April 2006 and was surprised by the actors’ response. They didn’t agree with it, stating instead that, as actors, they felt fully capable of the sort of passionate possession and sense of ownership McBurney describes, without having been part of a play’s creation. This was a revelation for me and made me look again at my assumptions about collaboration. If the actors didn’t feel a greater connection and sense of ownership to the characters that they had helped create, then what was the worth to them of being part of a collaborative process? Wouldn’t it be easier for them to receive just a final script and take their part from there? I set about earnest discussions with the group, wanting them to feel that this was their project too and that their ideas were valued and respected. These discussions led to another important research finding: talking gets in the way of action. I’d read about the pitfalls of too much talking, but had to experience it first-hand to realise it for myself. “It is a serious error to discuss the suggestions rather than rehearsing them. The writer and the director will produce a stronger piece in the end if they arrive at a script by rehearsing rather than talking about things.” (Keßler, 2002, p. 69) This has been a key finding for me and one that our group struggled to action. Talking is the safest option when the alternative is to improvise and potentially fall on your face. Many hours can be spent discussing ideas and analysing characters and storylines – it takes courage to try out those ideas in an improvisation. Having a script in your hand or deciding on how a scene will The Collaborative Impact / 73

play out before you start playing it acts as a safety net, taking some of the risk out of improvising, but also inhibiting the potential of the scene to come up with something new and unexpected. I wanted us to take ideas and run with them, I wanted the actors to surprise me with the things they brought out of the characters. It was to their credit that they still managed to do this despite the constraints I had created by writing scenes in advance. In one memorable workshop (2 July 2006) after we had introduced the third actor there was an improvisation where Steve, the stranger, was forced out of the house by Ned and Martha. The scene ended fairly uneventfully and Peter, the actor playing Steve, came back in and we started to talk. As he described his sense of frustration and impotence in the scene he got to his feet and told us what he’d really wanted to do. He described his rage as the character and the way he’d wanted to burst back in with a petrol can and a lighter and finally get everyone to listen to him. His energy fired the group and this is where I should have suggested that we go back to that scene and try it out. Instead we all sat down and talked about it. We discussed it until there was no energy or enthusiasm left. I was kicking myself as we left the rehearsal room. Why had I let it all fizzle out? The answer that came to me was simple: fear. In trying to keep the actors involved in the process, I had taken on board Kaye’s implied dislike of violence (in our first meetings she had stated her apprehension that the subject matter might lead to violent outcomes) and was trying to steer clear of it even though the play was heading naturally towards a violent outcome. I had never signed any contracts with the actors and I was always afraid that they might leave before the end of the process. This manifested in me taking an appeasing and placating role at times, instead of pushing for the involvement that I wanted from the actors. When Collaboration Harms There were many instances in addition to those above when the collaboration with the actors was extremely beneficial to the developing characters. But there were also times when the collaboration hindered the process. Times like the last workshop (16 July 2006) where I asked the actors to improvise three different endings for the play. One was an ending where I wanted Ned and Martha to leave the house. One of the actors refused to even begin the improvisation, saying that there was no way her character would do this. I completely understood where she was coming from – it would be The Collaborative Impact / 74

extremely difficult for Martha to leave her home – but what I wanted was for the actor to participate in the improvisation and see if there were some circumstances under which Martha would choose to leave. There were many times where suggestions were blocked or refused so that doors were closed before we had the chance to explore the room beyond them. This may have been due, in part, to the actors’ backgrounds and levels of experience. Kaye is a consummate performer, she has decades of experience in theatre, but most of it has been in scripted, established plays. Working as loosely as we were was a new experience for her. Dan is young and much newer to theatre. Most of the work he has done has been on new plays where exploring and improvising are part of the process. Peter, because of his role as the stranger, came into the process late, once Kaye and Dan had already established a working relationship, and it was hard for him to find his character and contribute to something that he didn’t feel a part of. I realised that the role I had chosen to play in the collaborative process was that of a mediator, trying to appease and please everyone involved. And, oftentimes, this was a process of guesswork – imagining what they wanted to have happen and trying to reach that conclusion. When I was writing scenes for the actors to work from, I was writing scenes that I hoped they’d be comfortable playing. This is at complete odds with what I now see as a playwright’s role; which is to find a way to surprise, shock and, sometimes, make people (the audience) extremely uncomfortable. We all know instinctively what ‘mad’ thought is: mad thoughts are those which other people find unacceptable, and train us not to talk about, but which we go to the theatre to see expressed. (Johnstone, 1989, p. 85) Whether I wrote the scene before the workshop or from the transcriptions of the workshop, we would analyse it before moving on. The danger inherent in this is that looking back at written scenes and dissecting them too deeply before the play is finished stops the play from moving forwards. “As Shakespeare knew, and we sometimes forget, plays are meant to be seen. Some plays deserve study, but almost any play will reveal holes if examined too closely.” (Simon, 2003, p. 53) And if this is true of a finished and produced script then how much more true is it of a work-in-progress; still rough, patchy and inconsistent because of its nascent state?


I entered the collaborative process quite naively, imagining that all the participants would embrace it and that there would be a whirlwind of creativity at the end of which I would simply shape the outcome into the right format for a script. I didn’t expect the drudgery often involved in improvisational work. Scene after scene where the actors didn’t know what to do and so simply repeated the same things over and over again. Improvising needs trust and daring. When these were in short supply it was too easy for the actors to negate what their colleagues offered and stick to the safe ground – often a position of power from which they could belittle or snap at the other characters. My solution was to take a directorial role and instruct the actors on what I’d like them to be doing. Sometimes this meant that I would give them secret objectives and get them to improvise a scene where they tried to get their objective met without letting the other actors know what that objective was. While these improvised scenes worked much better, they changed the structure of the process and placed me in a position of power and control. Lessening the potential for true collaboration or ‘shared creation’ as espoused by Schrage (1990, p. 140). As a result, while the actors gave a huge amount to the characters and the process, I was unable to get rid of the hierarchical structure and the impetus for ideas and scenes remained in my hands. Like most traditional companies, we ended up working with the playwright creating scenes and plot and the actors fleshing out the characters. Instead of sharing the creation as collaborators we were working in a playwright led group devising process. Anything that’s led by one person maintains some sense of hierarchy and can be seen, as Kaye suggested, as: “ … a benign dictatorship. A writer who has strong ideas but is open to input from respected colleagues. In the end the play is theirs.” (Attachment Three, lines 38–40) A Changing Process When I began, I had imagined a process where we would all be creating this play together. If the play started off as a seed when I conceived the starting idea for it, then collaborating with actors in its early germination would be a way of adding fertiliser and shaping the prolific growth that would ensue. I had brought expectations to the process and so had the actors. I expected them to throw themselves into the workshops, take risks and be creators. They expected me to write scenes for them and to tell them what they should and shouldn’t do. I was conscious of not wasting a second and when the The Collaborative Impact / 76

actors showed themselves to be bored or frustrated I felt responsible and as though I was failing them. Instead of letting the seed for this idea grow naturally into whatever plant it chose to grow into, I found myself adding fertiliser, trying to make it grow more quickly and clipping its tendrils when they went in directions we didn’t have time to follow. But this experience of working with the actors as co-creators did allow some wonderful cross-pollination. Two aspects of the cross-pollination that took the play in whole new directions and ended up being crucially important to it, as previously detailed, were the inclusion of fairy tales and the decision to make Ned crippled. It’s possible that, left on my own, I would have come up with the idea of crippling Ned so that he couldn’t leave the house even if he wanted to, but I doubt whether the weaving of the fairy story through the script would have occurred. This is an example of the positive impact of collaboration on a new work. As Hansel and Gretel started to become an integral part of the play, it suddenly became important to understand the role of fairytales in society, and to know the history of witch beliefs. Each new book read had a subtle impact on the creation of the play. My new knowledge was shared with the actors via handouts, summaries and photocopied sections of books read. And the actors reciprocated, pointing out websites and doing their own research on feral children and people living in isolation. Having been an actor, I know that many actors do extensively research their parts when they are given a role. They do background reading, volunteer in positions that might teach them something about the person they are playing and immerse themselves in music, art and literature that can add something to their understanding of their role. All of this makes for a deeper understanding of character and can help create a wonderfully detailed portrayal. But none of it is relayed to the playwright and none of it impacts on the script. It’s all used for the actor’s interpretation of the script. The research that the actors did during The Woods impacted directly on the script as they brought it along to workshops and we discussed its possible applications to the story we were creating. The collaborative process enhanced the developing themes of the play.


From Collaboration to Isolation A good play reaches deep. A good play reminds us about the preciousness of life. A good play gives us the hope of something that

life

doesn’t

usually

provide

–

the

possibility

that

understanding is out there, though we have to knock down old ways of looking at the world and start our thinking all over again. (Simon, 2003, p. 212) The first draft of The Woods was written based on the improvisations we had done as part of the collaborative process. In compiling them into a play script I felt compelled to keep true to the actors’ contributions. This meant that I was often transcribing scenes and then cutting and pasting to try to make them work theatrically. The scenes we’d workshopped were mostly self-contained and had little flow in them to open up to other scenes. I was cobbling them together and the feeling of the first draft was of different textured cloths, stitched together in any order even though the weave and the pattern didn’t fit or flow. As a result of this the first draft was often clunky – going from one improvised scene to the next with very little in the way of transitional scenes (necessary for the heightened naturalism that I wanted for this play.). My own creativity was hampered, as I felt it was imperative that I stayed true to the actors’ interpretations of their characters. My overall feeling on looking at the first draft was frustration. I wanted Martha to turn on Steve. I wanted her to attack him to defend her child. But because this was something that hadn’t come up in our workshops I couldn’t impose it on the script. Martha always seemed to be angry with Ned and I wanted her to be kinder to him at the start. I wanted the audience to see her gentle side. But, again, this hadn’t happened in our workshops and so I couldn’t include it. After the peer group reading and assessment of the first draft I went away to work on my own to create a second draft. This was always a possibility in the project design and, when I had come up with the methodology, I had imagined that I would be upset to lose the contributions of the actors. Instead I felt a great sense of relief. At last I would be able to take this play on the journey that I wanted to take it on. At last I would be free to manipulate the characters and the plot in whichever ways I wished. And working on my own was greatly enhanced because I had the actors’ voices in my head for the characters. I could see them moving across the stage as I wrote the directions. The characters were flesh and blood people to me. The Collaborative Impact / 78

(Not the same people as the actors who played them, but people brought to life by them.) The collaborative quizzing in the early days meant that I knew the characters’ back-stories intimately. I felt that I knew them inside and out, and now it was time for me to work in a more traditional framework, as the writer in isolation. In some ways this echoes the process that Caryl Churchill used when writing Cloud Nine. She workshopped the play for three weeks with Joint Stock Theatre Group and then went away and worked on her own for twelve weeks before coming back to the company for a process of rehearsals and rewrites for another six weeks. She notes: “Though the play’s situations and characters were not developed in the workshop, it draws deeply on this material, and I wouldn’t have written the same play without it.” (Churchill, 1979, introduction) Reflections At the end of the workshop process I asked the actors to send written feedback to use as part of this exegesis. Dan, who played Ned, gave a lengthy and thorough answer to the questions I’d posed. In answer to the question of what he was or wasn’t getting out of the process he said: The hazard I was trying to circumvent was that of imposing a character into the process … as far as improvisation goes there is a strong instinct amongst actors to find a character … as early as possible … In my experience this is heightened in scenarios whenever the given circumstances are especially thin. At the end of the process having experienced and reviewed the improvisations on video a number of times I am adamant that a definite character has been created and one possibly more subtle, complex and internal than I have ever had the opportunity to experience before. (Attachment Two, 2006, Lines 56–68) What is interesting about these comments is what they show about working collaboratively and through improvisation to reach a character, and the realisation that Dan has that this is a process that is often not fully explored. The other characters in the play aren’t as fully developed as Ned, the son who has been deprived of all outside experiences, who is an amazing character. I feel a sense of pride in my part as playwright in creating him, but also feel that he is a character who came into being thanks to Dan’s willingness to engage in the process. The Collaborative Impact / 79

Dan is the actor who has had the most experience of working collaboratively and his final paragraph about the process is revealing. “If there was a scale with total power share collaborative creation at one end and the popular hierarchical creative tree of playwright–director–actor [at the other end]. I would slot this one at 80 per cent popular hierarchical 20 per cent equal power share.” (Attachment Two, 2006, Lines 90–94) I feel that playwright led group devising is something that lends itself more to the popular hierarchy as espoused by Dan. While I went into the research hoping for complete collaboration, I can see that the end result was strongly in the hierarchical model as Dan suggests. There was an almost gravitational pull towards a hierarchical structure and I ended up structuring the workshops, starting and stopping the improvisations and setting the scenes for them. By the end the actors were assisting me in my vision of the play and workshopping scenes at my behest, but they had no control or power in the process. This is corroborated by Kaye in her feedback: “I'm not sure that this is a truly collaborative process. In this particular situation I feel that the actors have been trying to serve the playwright to flesh out her original idea.” (Attachment Three, 2006, Lines 26–29) For all my hopes for collaborative work I ended up in many ways replicating the dominant paradigm and perpetuating the hierarchy of playwrights at the top and actors at the bottom. (Oddey, 1994, p. 4) If we go back to the colour scale that I proposed in the introduction it would appear that my collaborative endeavours were not the inky grey I had hoped for, instead we’re looking at a pale, pearly sheen at the other end of the spectrum, far closer to the writer in isolation than had been planned. I had imagined that at the end of the process I would be able to credit each of the actors as co-writers, but that is not the way that it transpired. As I was unable to use most of the transcripts from the workshops in the final draft of the play, and as I had to go against some of the actors’ stated beliefs regarding what their characters were and weren’t capable of, the play ended up being written by me as a playwright working solo. Trying to work collaboratively gave me inspiration, deadlines, an onus to achieve so that I didn’t waste people’s time, and new skills in leading a group. Which brings me back to my starting question; were four heads indeed better than one, as I had assumed they would be?


Conclusion At the end of this research process I am unable to say whether working collaboratively makes writing a play a faster or more creative process. This is because the process I engaged in failed from the outset to be truly collaborative. I am, however, able to make an assessment of the efficacy of playwright led group devising as a process. From this assessment I can draw some conclusions about the possible benefits of collaborative working for a playwright, but these would need to be tested by another researcher. My findings could be a useful tool for other playwrights wanting to work with actors to generate their texts. Playwright led group devising, as I have come to understand and articulate it, is a process where a playwright works closely with a group of actors to generate ideas and create characters for a new work. The playwright brings the story idea or inciting incident to the group and then orchestrates improvisations to flesh out the idea and try out different scenarios. The playwright chooses what to include in the first draft and what to leave out and suggests new scenarios for improvisation as necessary. The actors are able to bring ideas for plot and character to the improvisations and can become advocates for the characters they play. At the end of the group devising process the playwright goes away to write a second draft and brings it back to the group for reading and feedback. If there is an avenue for performance the actors will then perform in the finished play. The impact of working with actors at the creation point of a new play was that it gave me access to new material (Hansel and Gretel) and also helped create highly detailed and complete characters for The Woods. When it came to the characters I didn’t feel that I was dealing with generalisations or nonspecifics because I had had the actors there questioning each choice I made and arguing for their characters’ actions. They helped make the characters flesh and blood, real people to me. I imagine many playwrights reach this point with their characters after spending months or years internalising them. The beauty of working with actors at the creation point was that the characters were fleshed out rapidly. In this regard working semi-collaboratively had its desired effect, which was to facilitate the speedy writing of a play.


In summary, the benefits of playwright led group devising are: 1. efficient use of time and effort – a playwright with just a hazy outline for a play can have his/her ideas tested, expanded on and fleshed out in a very short period of time. 2. a faster writing process – writing scenes that have been previously improvised is an extremely quick way of working. The playwright knows what worked and what didn’t and it’s just a matter of getting the useful sections down on paper. If the scenes are recorded then they can be watched again at later stages of the writing process for further inspiration. Having tried both writing scenes from scratch to use for new improvisations and writing scenes from improvisations that have already taken place I can say that writing from scenes already improvised was by far the speediest process. 3. opening up to experimentation – no idea is too crazy or strange to try in an improvisation. As a result all sorts of new, previously unthought of developments can occur within the script. 4. increased ideas – having other people to talk to in depth about the play while it’s in its infancy gives it the chance to go in all sorts of unexpected directions as they share their ideas and insights. This goes beyond character development and into areas of thematic and symbolic development of the play. Areas that actors are normally excluded from. When I look back at my initial question – are four minds better than one when it comes to writing a play – the answer is an equivocal yes and no. Four minds can indeed be better than one – generating more ideas and coming up with new possibilities – but, to make a unified play, at the end there does need to just be the one mind, using all that’s been gleaned from the other three, making final decisions and choices and creating a dramatically effective script out of all the ideas presented. One hand does need to hold the pen, and one person makes the final decisions. It is fitting if that person is the playwright.


Attachment One I’m doing a Masters in Playwriting this year and applied for it on the basis of doing a group devised project where I would work closely with a few actors to construct a play based on a starting idea I would bring to the project. The premise I want to work with is a woman who takes her infant son and runs away from society, going to live somewhere remote. She and her son live in a small hut and she never lets him leave it. She is legitimately terrified of the outside world and instills this fear in her child. The play starts when the son is in his 30s. He has never met another person or heard a different view to that given by his mother. I want to look at the effect of isolation and fear on families. I’m imagining breaking the play into 3 sections (I’ll call them ACT 1, 2,3 – even though I envisage this being a one act play.) Act 1 – Set up – mother and son interacting the way they do normally. How do they entertain themselves? What do they talk about? Do they still talk? Etc… Mother has to leave to get supplies – biannual trip – causes great fear and stress to both of them. Mother doesn’t return when she should. Act 2 – Son alone. Stranger arrives. Turns all son’s perceptions and beliefs upside down. His whole world and reality would be shattered. Act 3 – Mother returns and finds stranger there. Battle of different ‘realities’. Someone wins. Someone leaves. I’ve deliberately left it very vague as I want to be open to all impulses and different tracks the actors might bring to it. I’d like to meet once a week for about 3 hours (evening or weekends is good for me with work) – this can be worked around the actor’s availability. (Taken from email correspondence with actors. Sent 24 March 2006.) The Collaborative Impact / 83

Attachment Two Email feedback from Dan: received 21/07/2006 Have you worked in a devising situation before?

1

My actor training at Usq had a strong focus on improvisation and

2

collaborative creation. The most notable during this period was with

3

Mark Bromilow on Arabian Nights. My involvement in the Angry Mime

4

and its associated summer schools contained strong self devising and

5

group devising scenarios.

6

Two shows were developed through this process for the Woodford Folk

7

Festival. My most recent work the Boy and The Goat also utilised

8

collaborative improvisational elements in its execution.

9

If so, how is this different/the same?

10

In certain projects where there has been a delineated hierarchical

11

structure i.e Director, Playwright etc this project has shared many

12

identical processes towards its development. From other scenarios with

13

regard to equal power share towards creation this project has been very

14

different.

15

What made you agree to do the project?

16

The project sounded intrinsically interesting in regard to my own

17

personal artistic sentiments.

18

Secondly, as far as exercising, developing and experimenting with my

19

craft as an actor this project provided a solid opportunity.

20

What did you want to get out of it?

21

To learn and experience something new and different.

22

To contribute creatively.

23

What are/aren't you getting out of it?

24

Particular times you've felt empowered/disempowered in the process.

25


This improvisation process has probably been one of the most

26

challenging I have been involved in. The major reason would have been

27

the challenge with developing a fertile starting point for the character of

28

Ned. Although characters can be 'discovered' through various modes of

29

experimentation and recognised acting processes this character

30

provided certain obstacles not encountered before. Ned is so dependant

31

on the environmental influences that have shaped him. The most major

32

of these influences is his interpersonal relationship with his mother,

33

Martha. From the starting point of character development Ned is

34

immediately dependant on the nuances of his mother's behaviours. In

35

the opening stages of this process whenever the Director/Playwright

36

changed the given circumstances or character traits of Martha in an

37

improvisational scenario no matter how subtle this had a huge influence

38

on the Ned character. This was compounded by the major theme of the

39

Director/Playwright's intentions. This being a rather complex

40

investigation into the possible outcomes of unconventional childhood

41

conditioning. As far as my input was concerned I felt a strong duty to be

42

sensitive to this theme. Otherwise it would end in generalisation which

43

improvisations have a strong tendency to do. On top of this was Ned's

44

physical disability. This created another challenge in which physical

45

expression was severely curbed. All of this resulted in the landscape of

46

Ned's character becoming an intensely internal one.

47 48

To navigate around these obstacles I chose not to pull the normal levers

49

associated with acting in an improvisational context. Rather, I

50

attempted to 'let things flow' and 'keep it a bit messy', even close to the

51

point of banality. At the same time I was conscious of making decisions

52

to further develop the character. This strategy I felt allowed me to move

53

towards finding a character organically with out imposing some kind of

54

intellectual generalisation. I also feel that it enabled me to to absorb the

55

shifting improvisational scenarios. The hazard I was trying to circumvent

56

was that of imposing a character into the process. Generally, in

57

observation and experience, as far as improvisation goes there is a

58

strong instinct amongst actors to find a character or find something as

59

early as possible in an attempt to cover up their vulnerability as a

60

performer. In my experience this is heightened in scenarios whenever

61


the given circumstances are especially thin.

62 63

At the end of the process having experienced and reviewed the

64

improvisations on video a number of times I am adamant that a definite

65

character has been created and one possibly more subtle, complex and

66

internal than I have ever had the opportunity to experience before. In

67

saying that I also must admit that I experienced a lot of doubt and

68

vulnerability throughout the process..

69

How much ownership do you feel over the character you're playing and

70

the script as a whole?

71

I possess a strong ownership of my character Ned. Whether or not that

72

character will be translated onto the page to my own sensibilities is

73

beyond my control. This is most possibly a very healthy thing in regards

74

to the intense subjectivity of a performer experiencing a character and

75

the objectivity required on part of the Director/Playwright when

76

negotiating a creative vision. However, I do have a personal fear that

77

many of the nuances and subtleties might be lost especially with regard

78

to the way Ned uses language to lever and wrap his own limited

79

experiences and imaginative processes around the interpersonal

80

transactions with the other characters, most particularly the stranger

81

character. The repetition of Ned's language through which he processes

82

the world is possibly the core mechanism by which he exists.

83 84

With regard to my past experiences it feels as if in this process the

85

improvisation is rather secondary to the creative process as a whole. As

86

a personal opinion it seems as if the improvisational scenarios are being

87

utilised as possible sources of inspiration or for pockets of discovery and

88

experimentation rather than the main platform of creation. It does feel

89

like a play that ultimately is being 'written'. If there was a scale with

90

total power share collaborative creation at one end and the popular

91

hierarchical creative tree of playwright- director -actor. I would slot his

92

one at 80 percent popular hierarchical 20 percent equal power share.

93

Having said that the aforementioned could be just all mere conjecture

94

and the imaginings of deluded and burned out mind..

95


96

Yet, it has been exciting, fruitful and rewarding to be involved in this

97

way. It has been a pleasure to work on such a project.

98

-Cheers, Dan...


Attachment Three Email feedback from Kaye – received 2 July 2006: Have worked in a collaborative script writing process before - many years

1

ago - Using a Shakespeare play as the basis a group of actors

2

reconstructed scenes, both by collaboratively writing and then

3

improvising around the resulting text loosely based on the plot of the

4

play. It was very rough and ready and worked because of the particular

5

personalities of the actors involved. It was comedy and the roughness of

6

the script could be concealed with a lot of visual business. The final

7

performance and script was decided by the director, but there was a real

8

sense that the end product was "owned" by the Company.

9 10

Another devising workshop involved a group of actors improvising

11

characters and scenes based on some of their own life experiences.

12

These scenes were then written up by two different playwrights and then

13

read by the actors who had created the characters. It was amusing but

14

was a series of vignettes with very little shape. Mind you, this was a first

15

draft.

16

At the time of the SEQEB strike, during Belke-Petersen's period of

17

government a similar process - actors improvising current situations and

18

writers then compiling a script, achieved a better outcome. We really had

19

something to dramatise and we all felt it really mattered. However, again

20

it was actors aiding playwrights, but we did all feel a sense of ownership.

21

Probably because the subject matter had touched a raw nerve. Passion is

22

all!

23

The difference with this project, as I see it, is we started with an idea

24

proposed by Katherine and then improvised scenes as suggested by her,

25

she then wrote up scenes based on those improvisations. I'm not sure

26

that this is a truly collaborative process. In this particular situation I feel

27

that the actors have been trying to serve the playwright to flesh out her

28

original idea. Whether we have succeeded in clarifying or merely

29

confusing is for her to say. To be truly collaborative I would have to feel

30

that there was a story I really wanted to tell and in this way I would feel

31

88

more of a sense of ownership. Having said that, I do feel that I have

32

created Martha, such as she is at the moment. Whether this character is

33

of benefit to the end result, i.e., an engaging performance piece, I am not

34

so sure. Personally I do not feel at all skilled as a writer, but do feel that I

35

can make a contribution to a writer by workshopping a text and making

36

suggestions with regard to character and construction. I am a firm

37

believer in a benign dictatorship. A writer who has strong ideas but is

38

open to input from respected colleagues. In the end the play is theirs.

39 40

I agreed to the project because Katherine is someone I was interested in

41

getting to know. I had the time, and am always keen to have a bash at

42

something a bit challenging. I thought I would treat it as an acting

43

exercise for my own benefit, while also putting something back (as they

44

say).

45

Have, at times, felt a bit frustrated with the process. Earlier on I wanted

46

Katherine to have more material for us to work on. However, I think I

47

misunderstood her aims. I have enjoyed our meetings though and

48

certainly do not feel that my time has been wasted.

49

I am not convinced that a better play results from this way of working. I

50

have always enjoyed workshopping drafts of new work with writers who

51

are open to ideas and input and not defensive, but who can also be quite

52

decisive about the story they want to tell and the way they want to tell it.

53 54

89

Attachment Four Email Feedback from Kaye – received 12 November 2006 From:

“Kaye Stevenson”

Subject: Re: thank you Date: 12 November 2006 11:53:48 AM To:

“Katherine Lyall-Watson”

Dear Katherine, It must have been nerve wracking for you but I'm so pleased that the responses were positive. I think that it is shaping up to be an interesting piece outside the norm. The fairy-story basis has allowed you to explore issues of isolation and the influence of the mother's disturbed state of mind on her son in an unsettling and compelling way. I think Martha could be fun to explore. Her physicality is something we couldn't exploit in the reading, but her awkwardness with touch and her "fits" and her "disappearances" and how they affect Ned, with his own disabilities, makes for rich mining. There are still some awkwardnesses in the text, as I'm sure you are aware, but considering how it all started and that this is only the 4th draft I think it's in pretty good shape. It is obvious to me why I am an interpreter of the form and not the initiator. I could never do what you do and I have great admiration for the craft. I have enjoyed the process. Thankyou for inviting me and getting to know you a little has been an added bonus. Keep me posted on the play's future life, won't you? ----- Original Message ----From: "Katherine Lyall-Watson" To: "Kaye Stevenson" Sent: Sunday, November 12, 2006 8:57 AM Subject: thank you Dear Kaye, thank you so much for bringing Martha to life. It has been an absolute pleasure to work with you and to get your input.

90

I am really happy with the way the reading went and have had fabulous responses from the people who saw it. Am looking forward to doing the next draft! If you have any feedback on it as an actor I would love to get it. (I think that Martha is the hardest part in the play - and the monologue at the end is really tricky. But you made it work and made it so moving. Thank you.) Hope you have a great day today. With love and thanks, Katherine

91

Bibliography Allen, R.J. and Pearlman, K. (eds.) (1998) Performing the Unnameable: an Anthology of Australian Performance Texts, Sydney: Currency Press. Bettelheim, B. (1977) The Uses of Enchantment – the Meaning and Importance of Fairy Tales, New York: Vintage. Birkhäuser-Oeri, S. (1988) The Mother: Archetypal Image in Fairy Tales, Toronto: Inner City Books. Bradby, D. and Williams, D. (1988) Directors’ Theatre, Hampshire: Macmillan Publishers. Bray, E. (1991) Playbuilding – a guide for group creation of plays with young people, Sydney: Currency Press. Brook, P. (1968) The Empty Space, Middlesex: Penguin Callery, D. (2001) Through the Body: A Practical Guide to Physical Theatre, London: Nick Hern Books. Candland, D. (1993) Feral Children and Clever Animals – reflections on human nature, New York: Oxford University Press. Chaikin, J. (1991) The Presence of the Actor, New York: Theatre Communications Group. Chan, W. (2004) “The Writer is King: Copyright in Devised Theatre”, retrieved April 20, 2006, from http://www.artslaw.com.au/ArtLaw/Archive/04TheWritersisKing.asp Churchill, C. (1979) Cloud 9, New York: Theatre Communications Group. Clements, P. (1983) The Improvised Play – the work of Mike Leigh, London: Methuen.

92

Collins (2000) Collins English Dictionary – 5th Australian edition, Glasgow: HarperCollins. De Heer, R. (1996) Bad Boy Bubby, Sydney: Currency Press. Denzin, N. and Lincoln, Y. (Eds) (2005) Handbook of Qualitative Research, 3rd edition, California: Sage Publications. Gration, S. (1996) “The Natural State of Things,” Lowdown June 1996, pp. 1011. Gurr, M. (2006, September 14) “Playwriting Masterclass”, Brisbane: Powerhouse Theatre. [Public workshop: Brisbane Writers Festival workshop series] Hancock, A. (2002) Chaos/Complexity and the processes of devised theatre – Interactive e-book, South Fremantle: Hush Performing Arts Library Husain, S. (1994) The Virago Book of Witches, London: Virago Press. Johnstone, K. (1989) Impro: Improvisation and the Theatre, New York: Routledge. Kahn, D. and Breed, D. (1995) Scriptwork: a Director’s Approach to New Play Development, Carbondale and Edwardsville: Southern Illinois University Press. Keßler, B. in Bicât, T. and Baldwin, C. (eds) (2002) Devised and Collaborative Theatre: a Practical Guide, Ramsbury: The Crowood Press. Lattanzi, B. (2003) “Fear and Trust” retrieved 08/05/06 from www.stagesource.org/download/15_fear_and_trust_4_03.pdf Luber, S. (2005) “Collaborative Theater – Alive and Well in CollaborationTown” retrieved on 23/9/06 from http://www.offoffonline.com/feature-031005.html. McBurney, S. (2006) Retrieved 22/04/06 from http://www.complicite.org/about/

93

McBurney, S. and Wheatley, M. (1995) The Three Lives of Lucie Cabrol, London: Methuen Drama. Megarrity, D. (2005) “Ukulele Mekulele : Balancing Sole Authorship and Devised Approaches to Performance Making”, Masters Thesis, QUT Creative Industries. Napier, M. (2004) Improvise – Scene From the Inside Out, Portsmouth: Heinemann. Oddey, A. (1994) Devising Theatre – a Practical and Theoretical Handbook, London and New York: Routledge. Pamuk, O. (2006) Nobel Lecture – taken from the Nobel Foundation website: http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/2006/pamuk-lecture.html on 5 January 2007. Roose-Evans, J. (1989) Experimental Theatre – From Stanislavsky to Peter Brook, London and New York: Routledge. Sanders, A. (1995) A Deed Without a Name – the Witch in Society and History, Oxford and Washington DC: Berg. Schrage, M. (1990) Shared Minds, New York: Random House. Simon, M. (2003) The Audience and the Playwright: How to get the most out of live theatre, New York: Applause Theatre and Cinema Books. Somerville, J. (1997) “Collaborative Theatre Practice - the role and function of the dramaturg” retrieved 23/9/06 from http://www.writernet.co.uk/php2/news.php?id=322&item=55. Stanley, S.M. (1981) Drama Without Script, London: Hodder and Stoughton. Wilkins, K. (2006) “Creativity’s Myths and Mishaps,” Writing Queensland June 2006, pp. 16–17.

94

Williams, D. (ed.) (1999) Collaborative Theatre: the Theatre du Soleil Sourcebook, London and New York: Routledge. Zipes, J. (1979) Breaking the Magic Spell: Radical Theories of Folk and Fairy Tales, London: Heinemann Education Books. Zipes, J. (2006) Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion, 2nd ed, New York: Routledge

95