Acting, Embodiment, and Text: Hedda Gabler and Possible Uses of Cognitive Science

In spring 2009, I led a workshop staging of Ibsen's Hedda Gabler for the Division of Theatre at Southern Methodist University in order to provide some of our MFA students with an opportunity to work on a major piece of modern realism. Our purpose was to focus on embodiment and relationship in acting, which drew on research I have been doing in cognitive neuroscience. Although I first focused on the individual actor, particularly in regard to text and action, I am now exploring applications of science to partnered work. Informed by research on embodiment, cognition, and the relationship among individuals, I wanted to investigate ways to help actors understand not that they need to "be in their body," but that they are, in fact, nothing if they are not a body. The phrase "be in your body" is useful though potentially problematic, in much the same way that the ubiquitous Meisnerian "get out of your head" is. While we more or less know what these phrases mean, the images they conjure up perpetuate false binaries that split mind from body and risk hobbling the actor by giving her a false, fragmented image of herself. The cognitive and neurosciences can define more accurately how the various aspects of the actor's self affect and even arise out of one another, and help her to more effectively manipulate those different aspects in engaging her fellow performers and creating a role. What we did physically with Hedda might not have looked terribly different from some standard approaches to acting, but the actors' understanding of what we were doing, their point of view, their imagery work, and our intense focus on relationship varied in some significant regards.

Second-year MFA actors played the roles of Hedda, Tesman, Thea, and Lovborg; an undergraduate senior played Berte; and two faculty colleagues—professional actors Leslie Brott and Jack Greenman—played Aunt Julie and Judge Brack. Our "lab" environment freed us from pressures of an "opening night" or a paying audience, though I still wished we had had more time. Our initial plan was to work throughout the semester, but, because of schedule conflicts with other productions, we were limited to twenty-four hours a week for half that time, roughly six weeks. Our arena configuration in a small studio space seated roughly thirty-five people; we used only rehearsal furniture and props; clothes were pulled from actors' closets; and we had some lighting that was designed and executed as we were rehearsing. We were concerned with historical period or accuracy only insofar as it strengthened our emotional and imaginative engagement with the play's story. Because I had directed Hedda twice before in fully produced, academic theatre season offerings, I knew the play well and was able to jump quickly into substantial work on key elements in the text. I understood the pitfalls of the script, such as the dangers of melodrama and "neck-up" acting, dangers of presumption about how Ibsen "should be done," the speed of the plot and action—huge revelations, turns-on-a-dime, extremity of the feelings, which might lead one to overlook the humor and emotional amplitude of the play.

We limited table work—the traditional "first phase" of the process in which director and actors read carefully through the play and discuss meaning, context, and possible interpretations prior to getting the work on its feet. While table work and preliminary discussion are necessary, too much can constrain the more experiential aspects of an actor's discovery. The wrong kind of table work can inhibit by defining a too-narrow range of possible outcomes, closing down exploration too quickly. Actors can abuse table work to make premature choices about character and action before they get on their feet. (I am put in mind of Meryl Streep's response to Mike Nichols's question about her acting process: "Oh, you never know what you're going to do until you do it" [Streep, qtd. in McGrath 2009].) This is related to the challenge of getting actors to use themselves, particularly their imaginations, as...