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Clues to Acting Shakespeare (3rd ed) Page 5
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Mark or circle the phrases in your monologue and sonnet. Now your scansion is nearing completion. Next add the caesuras.
Thus did he answer me, yet said
I might know more hereafter.
CYMBELINE, IV, ii
THE CAESURA
Nay, I’ll speak that
Which you will wonder at.
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, IV, i
The caesura is a short sense pause marked //. It is not punctuation but is actor-created and can serve like punctuation. Placed correctly, the caesura does many things:
• It allows the words preceding it to “sink in” before the listener must deal with more words
• It places focus on the word or phrase following it, giving that word or phrase special emphasis
• It slows the language down
• It separates phrases, which are often the character’s thoughts, and allows the listener to hear them one at a time
When you run thoughts together, the audience is usually lost.
As with most rules, once learned they become automatic. Where caesura is concerned, use the sense pause thoroughly in rehearsal and preparation, as the use will force you to separate your thoughts. Then remove the caesuras, except where absolutely essential for audience understanding of a word or thought.
When the phrases are identified and the caesuras then removed, you will likely handle the line in such a way that each thought has its own emphasis and energy, and is clearly expressed without the pause. Using that pause in rehearsal, however, will guide you to the places where the thoughts separate.
Consider Richard’s opening soliloquy in Richard III:
Richard: Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that lowered upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. (I, i)
We know that most verse lines without punctuation will take a caesura, usually somewhere in the middle. Arguably, you could place caesuras anywhere that thoughts change, or where you want to set up a word or phrase. Here is the same speech with lots of caesuras—far too many for performance. Note how caesuras can help you to explore all the possibilities of a thought. Consider the many choices you have for the one-word thought “Now.” Choose one.
Richard: Now // is the winter // of our // discontent //
Made // glorious summer // by this // son of York;
And // all the clouds // that lowered upon our house //
In the deep bosom // of the ocean // buried.
Your Richard will not need these pauses, and indeed, the pauses will tend to make the speech jerky and indulgent. But each represents something special that is happening in the language. When you remove the pauses, following your discovery period in rehearsal—surely you must remove most of them for performance—you will automatically do something vocally or physically to clarify the possibility of each thought.
Ah, to be blessed with a strong voice and to have trained it! You will need it now as you remove the pauses, and yet, you must play each idea clearly and individually so that it reaches the listener’s ear.
Most verse lines lend themselves to at least one caesura. Some already have the thoughts separated by punctuation, and additional caesuras may not be necessary. But the very structure of the blank verse line lends itself to division of thoughts and to “setting up” important words or phrases. Use the caesura, but don’t be tempted to retain it anywhere, except where it adds to the listener’s understanding. Speaking the language with correct rhythm is much stronger than speaking with pauses inserted for emphasis. Most caesuras are for discovery, not performance.
Here is another example from the same play. To overthrow Richard, Richmond says to his troops:
Richmond: More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell upon. Yet remember this:
God and our good cause fight upon our side; (V, iii)
You might separate the thoughts like this:
More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure // and enforcement // of the time //
Forbids to dwell upon. Yet // remember this:
God // and our good cause // fight upon our side;
Line 1: The thoughts are already separated by the author.
Line 2: Play both factors—“leisure” and “enforcement”—not just one, and don’t play both as one. Also, don’t breathe after “time,” but you might take a very short caesura, because you want to set up and attack the active verb “forbids.”
Line 3: The thoughts are separated by the author in the middle of the line. “Yet” is one of many transition words used by Shakespeare (some others include “but,” “then,” “when,” “therefore,” and “or”), and you can use “yet” to set up the next idea. Do that here.
Line 4: The two factors, “God” and “and our good cause,” should not be run together as one. Use them to set up the final phrase.
You are now deeply into the skills required to play Shakespeare!
And skills are exactly what we’re developing. We haven’t begun to tap our brains to analyze the possibilities of each thought. And yet the language will start to make sense if we simply use these speaking skills. They allow the language to be heard in such a way that the ideas are emphasized, even if we don’t know what all of the ideas are. These skills alone will take you a long way in Shakespeare performance and in cold readings. You’re starting to allow the language to live.
Sir John Gielgud made this remark: If you were not quite sure of a very difficult speech in Shakespeare and you studied the punctuation and got it right, the sense would in some way emerge (Acting Shakespeare, 35).
Now I begin to relish thy advice.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, I iii
Take some time to insert caesuras into your monologues and sonnet. Once done, your basic scansion is complete and should include:
• Feet separation
• Stresses marked
• Words and feet that break the rhythm (trochees) circled
• Phrases marked or circled
• Caesuras marked
• Feminine endings and elisions noted
• Preliminary breathing points circled
• Oxford English Dictionary (OED) research to look up all words (see chapter 9)
Later we will add antithesis, analysis, imagery, and more detail on breathing points. But for now, continue on to “kick the box” and other skills.
CHAPTER 4
Support the Line and Thought
We’ll begin these rites,
As we do trust they’ll end, in true delights.
AS YOU LIKE IT, V, iv
THE ACTOR MUST support the verse line all the way through to the final word. An exercise I call “kicking the box” teaches this skill.* I began using this exercise when I started working with actors on Shakespearean text some thirty years ago—kicking first an eraser (which was too small), then a sweatshirt (which was too soft), then a soccer ball (which nearly broke the windows), and then settling on a cardboard box one day when we had no eraser or sweatshirt or ball.
KICK THAT BOX!
Let’s first review why this exercise is so important, then we’ll practice it. In coaching “realistic actors” to handle Shakespeare, I have found that kicking the box is the most effective way to learn complete support of the verse line. This is the most basic and simplest of all the skills, and yet it is one of the most important. It is so important, because the natural speech of American actors is dramatically opposed to this necessary skill.
A line of our everyday speech looks something like the diagram on the following page.
The emphasis and volume peak in the middle of the line, then fade away as if the speaker has lost interest in the thought or run out of breath.
In Shakespeare, the end of the line is equally important and many times more important than the beginn
ing or middle, because it allows the thought implicit in the line to carry forward. As mentioned in chapter 2, many verse lines are enjambed, and the thought continues from one line to the next without punctuation or pause. In blank verse, the actor cannot afford to lose interest in the thought or run out of breath.
Kicking the box helps the actor support the final word or phrase and keep the thought from ending too soon.
We want to involve our entire body when speaking Shakespeare’s language. Kicking the box helps the actor remain physically involved in the language.
For in such business,
Action is eloquence.
CORIOLANUS, III, ii
Supporting the last word or syllable of the blank verse line is not easy and, once learned, is easily ignored. Physiologically, our diaphragm doesn’t want to work that way. The muscle is “lazy” and prefers relaxation to tension. During voice training, actors learn to use the diaphragm to support speech. But even after training, many actors forget to “kick the box.”
They forget for three reasons:
• The effort to read the line “naturally” and truthfully encourages us to fade out at the end
• We don’t practice speaking blank verse on a daily basis
• Breath support becomes lackadaisical, so rather than support the ends of lines, it is easier to allow them to fade away like they do in our daily speech
Because our vocal muscles are uncomfortable with a change, any effort to support the ends of lines may at first seem strange or “overdone.” But supporting is correct. If you don’t support the end of the verse line, one can project that your Shakespeare will not be clear or truthful. The listener won’t quite know what you are saying.
You need great physical energy to speak Shakespeare’s verse, and kicking the box helps you to remember to use your body. Energy is a key to your success. Remember, Shakespeare’s plays were written to be performed:
• Outdoors
• In broad daylight
• For large audiences
• With much of the audience standing for the entire play
• With people sitting on stage
• Amid concession sales, like a baseball game
• With birds flying around
• With the audience talking back to the actors
If you try speaking in that setting, you will discover immediately how much vocal energy is required.
Here’s the kick-box skill and how to do it.
In this example, Romeo is speaking to Friar Laurence:
Romeo: Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. (III, iii)
Scan the line. Now speak the line in a “natural” way, allowing the final word “feel” to fade away. The line works to a degree. But now, circle the word “feel.” Place a small cardboard box on the floor and stand by it. Speak the line, and when you get to “feel,” kick the box. Don’t kick on “not,” and don’t kick after “feel.” Kick right on the f of the word.
It may help if you take a split-second pause (a caesura) before “feel,” as this allows you to position yourself and the word, and to get your leg and balance ready to kick—then kick. Later, forget the pause. It’s only for the exercise.
You will notice that the kick does two things—it gets your body physically involved in speaking the language, and it gets you to support the word “feel.” The intent here is not to overplay “feel,” not to shout it, and not to call great attention to it. You simply support it, as opposed to letting it fade out. However, for fun, try to over-stress “feel.” Shout it. It’s almost impossible to overdo it!
Your ear should tell you that the line means different things when you support or don’t support “feel.” If you don’t support it, Romeo seems to be telling the Friar not to “speak of things.” That information is in the first half of the line. If you do support “feel,” Romeo may be reminding the Friar that he is celibate and has never felt the love of a woman, so how can he advise? That reading gives both actors much more to work with. Try it.
There are other interpretations of this line, of course, but you should see immediately the difference between supporting and not supporting the final word.
Not supporting makes the line a “general” comment—supporting makes it “specific.” Remember Stanislavski’s famous observation: “In general is the enemy of art.”
EXERCISES FOR KICKING THE BOX
Kick the box on the tenth syllable of the blank verse line.
Here are the first four lines of Sonnet 29:
When, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes, (1)
I all alone beweep my outcast state, (2)
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, (3)
And look upon myself and curse my fate. (4)
First, try these two preliminary exercises:
1. Read the four lines, but pay no attention to the final words. Just let that final word of each sentence fall away, as we do in everyday speech.
2. Then read the four lines as if you’ve run out of breath before reaching the end of each line.
Having done that, put your cardboard box (size doesn’t matter) in the middle of the room, and read the four lines again. This time, kick the box on the words “eyes,” “state,” “cries,” and “fate.” To do this successfully, you must prepare your body and your kicking leg in the space before the final word in each line; you must position yourself. If you don’t prepare, you’ll kick too soon or too late. So practice this until you have it perfectly. The box will be a mess, and you’ll probably need a new one. (So that the lines make sense, don’t forget to use the caesuras—probably after “Fortune,” “alone,” “heaven,” and “myself.”)
When doing the exercise correctly, you will notice many things. By “playing” the final word of each line, the line takes on new meaning. Also, the thought in the line is carried through the entire line. The thought then continues on to start the next line.
Because it takes breath support to handle the last word in each line, the air reserve held for that word actually helps support the entire line, which provides a double benefit.
When you support the final words, you will notice your diaphragm tighten, and the tension will feel a little uncomfortable. A more “natural” feeling would be to let these final words slide away gently and not to tighten the diaphragm. But that manner of speaking ignores correct vocal support.
When you kick the box on the last word of each line, notice how your entire body gets involved in the language. You want to breathe, and can breathe, after you kick—unless there is no punctuation. That breath helps you prepare for the next line. As you get better at this exercise, you’ll discover that as you breathe in, your mind is grabbing the next line. As you breathe out, that next line is spoken. The procedure keeps repeating.
To check how much better the lines are now, read them again and let the last words fade away. Don’t kick the box. Compare!
Practice this exercise with your monologue and sonnet. If you encounter a final word of many syllables, be disciplined. Kick only on the final syllable—not at the start of the word.
Here are the next two lines from Sonnet 29. Notice the final word in line 6:
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, (kick on “hope”) (5)
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, (kick on “sessed”). (6)
You will also find that you can kick the box on any word that is followed by punctuation. For example, in line 6 above, you could also kick on the first “him.” Normally we don’t stress pronouns. In this case we might elect to give it a modest stress.
When the final phrase or word of a line is supported, the thought doesn’t “end” until another person speaks. Even when a speech contains a period or semi-colon, continued support of the final word in each line keeps the listeners attentive—they know you have more to say.
I trust I may have leave to speak,
And speak I will.
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW, IV, iii
When you allow the final word of the line to sag, it sounds like you’ve finished speaking. An imaginary “period” is heard. Then, if you begin talking again, the listener, who thought you had finished, must adjust. Nothing is keeping the thought going. You don’t want that situation. You don’t want the listener to “relax,” but to stay attentive to what you are saying. Don’t let ’em off the hook!
We don’t want to abuse this exercise and overdo stress on the final syllable or word. Let your common sense and good ear be your judge. The intention is to support, not blast, and allow the idea to continue.
Supporting the final words keeps the listener hooked.
I bring a trumpet to awake his ear,
To set his seat on the attentive bent,
And then to speak.
TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, I, iii
MORE VALUES FROM KICKING THE BOX
Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me?
AS YOU LIKE IT, I, i
Playing the final word of the line will help continue the thought to the next line.
From The Merchant of Venice, here is the first line of Portia’s well-known “mercy” speech:
Portia: The quality of mercy is not strained; (IV, i)
What’s the line about? It is not simply about this thing called the “quality of mercy,” but suggests that mercy cannot be obtained by straining at it.
(Where does the caesura go? Probably after “mercy.”)
Read the line aloud and let “is not strained” drop away. Notice that the line seemed to be about “the quality of mercy” and something else, which was rather vague. It was vague for two reasons:
• It was hard to hear.
• The actor gave it no importance, so why should I, the listener, spend time with it?
As the next line is already coming to my ear, I have no time to deal with the “unimportant” phrase.