Once there was a butterfly
That dreamt it was a man
Dreaming he was a butterfly.
The man awoke in a daze.
In front of him was a butterfly curling into itself
Turning into a chrysalis from which emerged a caterpillar
Straining upwards with the memory of the butterfly.
The butterfly awoke from the dream, with a heavy heart
And stared at the man asleep, dreaming the memory of the butterfly…
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The same breath - the intersection between martial arts and theatre
I recently met a martial artist who had spent the last 17 years in Japan training his art. What was especially interesting about this artist was that he was also a street performer, calligrapher and potter. While his mastery of the martial art was exceptional, what was even more exceptional was the nature of his street theatre routine. It involved riding a 10-foot unicycle, while juggling chain saws! The circumstances through which his artistic evolution occurred were also profoundly insightful. Once while in training the artist faced a situation where weapons were being thrown around at adversaries and he was struck by how this seemed to be very much like juggling. Another time he saw the handling of concealed weapons and was prompted to investigate sleight-of-hand tricks and magic. On yet another occasion the study of swordplay brought him to the study of calligraphy. In all instances the idea of play simply led him to the interplay of one form with the other.
This encounter prompted me to introspect a little about the intersection of theatre and the martial arts. We are fortunate in India to have very lively traditions that exemplify cross training and inter-disciplinary osmosis. While training Kalaripayyattu I often encountered Kathakalli performers who moved in an almost identical fashion to Kalari exponents - sometimes even employing identical stances. On more than one occasion I encountered the statement that if you wanted to be an actor you had to learn Kathakalli and if you wanted to be a warrior then Kalari was the art to study - and invariably both forms were invoked in the same breath. This observation is neither intended to obfuscate the infinite variations between the two forms, nor is it to lump the two traditions into one common basket. It is in some way an attempt at locating the contemporary practitioner between both worlds - where one draws from both martial forms and performative techniques for self-development.
Perhaps the most compelling evidence of this intersection is in the use of stances and postures in both martial arts and theatre. In the marital arts the stance is invariably a guard or a defensive/offensive posture with certain attributes that serve different functions. Weight distribution with an emphasis on the front foot could suggest an attacking posture and weight towards the back foot could imply a defensive posture. Beyond mechanical function the posture also does things to the inner state - perhaps increasing a sense of rootedness, or sometimes invoking an animal spirit. (There's enough mumbo-jumbo about various esoteric fighting styles to infer what this could mean. Praying mantis style, drunken monkey etc…) This change in inner state is especially useful for stage performers. Often a simple change in breathing converts a fighting stance into a wonderful stage posture. With just a few modifications, the posture is adapted from serving the functional needs of combat into a theatrical state of heightened energy. Breath that is usually held in reserve for explosive movement or concealed to mask the instant of attack can be redirected towards voice and the production of sound. Similarly energy that is stored to enable movement against an adversary is now redirected towards the magical space between audience and performer.
Another point of intersection is the idea of moving as one. On stage we can instantly recognise when a performer has moved with complete conviction. We intuitively sense things like body intention and the unity of movement. Often we work with the idea of rooting movement in different energy centres of the body or at the very least with the idea of a limb leading a particular movement. Exactly the same idea holds true for the martial artist. A lot of training emphasises the idea of moving in totality - the idea of investing completely in a movement with the full body, mind and soul. This idea of holistic movement is also interlinked with the idea of intention. In dialogue we are always playing with intentions, rehearsing to explore the subtext and eventually rendering a particular set of intentions to each line - thereby making artistic choices on each line. In combat we are often striking with intention, not merely mechanically striking. In fact, at higher levels of some martial arts, the intention itself is enough to produce a reaction in the adversary.
Perhaps the most memorable exploration of this concept occurs with the famous scene of Bruce Lee training with a young student of the martial arts. The first sidekick that the young lad throws at Lee is merely mechanical and Lee rebuffs it - insisting that the boy kick with feeling. The second kick is also rebuffed because the boy has kicked with anger. On the third try the boy manages to satisfy Lee when he delivers a kick with feeling. He delivers a movement with total immersion in the movement. If you merely substitute the sidekick with a line of dialogue, the three stages of developing intention are evident. The first is a mere mechanical delivery of the line bereft of intention. The second is an imposed intention, where there is an emotional investment - but not necessarily the right one or the organically inherent one. The final stage is when the line is delivered with the right intention and where the performer has disappeared because he has immersed himself totally in the line. Be it a line or a sidekick, we are then confronted with the idea of acting in totality, of acting with complete commitment to the intention.
This is where it begins to get mystical because in this state of total immersion, all intention begins to dissolve. Suddenly the line is simply delivered without thought. There is a moment of blankness and at the same time extreme clarity. The kick is delivered at the right instant, with the perfect timing seemingly without conscious effort on the part of the practitioner. And as Lee famously said, “It hits by itself.” In this state of heightened consciousness time begins to dilate. A moment can be sliced into a much longer time and there is a sense of detachment where the doer of the action is merely observing himself doing the action, outside of himself.
Perhaps this is the ultimate convergence of the two paths - a heightened state of consciousness that transcends the physical and ventures into the meta-physical. A state of freedom, of clarity - a mind-space beyond thought, where one is absolutely in the moment and absolutely free to act…
(This article first appeared in the PT Notes August 2011 issue. Read it here at http://www.prithvitheatre.org)
This encounter prompted me to introspect a little about the intersection of theatre and the martial arts. We are fortunate in India to have very lively traditions that exemplify cross training and inter-disciplinary osmosis. While training Kalaripayyattu I often encountered Kathakalli performers who moved in an almost identical fashion to Kalari exponents - sometimes even employing identical stances. On more than one occasion I encountered the statement that if you wanted to be an actor you had to learn Kathakalli and if you wanted to be a warrior then Kalari was the art to study - and invariably both forms were invoked in the same breath. This observation is neither intended to obfuscate the infinite variations between the two forms, nor is it to lump the two traditions into one common basket. It is in some way an attempt at locating the contemporary practitioner between both worlds - where one draws from both martial forms and performative techniques for self-development.
Perhaps the most compelling evidence of this intersection is in the use of stances and postures in both martial arts and theatre. In the marital arts the stance is invariably a guard or a defensive/offensive posture with certain attributes that serve different functions. Weight distribution with an emphasis on the front foot could suggest an attacking posture and weight towards the back foot could imply a defensive posture. Beyond mechanical function the posture also does things to the inner state - perhaps increasing a sense of rootedness, or sometimes invoking an animal spirit. (There's enough mumbo-jumbo about various esoteric fighting styles to infer what this could mean. Praying mantis style, drunken monkey etc…) This change in inner state is especially useful for stage performers. Often a simple change in breathing converts a fighting stance into a wonderful stage posture. With just a few modifications, the posture is adapted from serving the functional needs of combat into a theatrical state of heightened energy. Breath that is usually held in reserve for explosive movement or concealed to mask the instant of attack can be redirected towards voice and the production of sound. Similarly energy that is stored to enable movement against an adversary is now redirected towards the magical space between audience and performer.
Another point of intersection is the idea of moving as one. On stage we can instantly recognise when a performer has moved with complete conviction. We intuitively sense things like body intention and the unity of movement. Often we work with the idea of rooting movement in different energy centres of the body or at the very least with the idea of a limb leading a particular movement. Exactly the same idea holds true for the martial artist. A lot of training emphasises the idea of moving in totality - the idea of investing completely in a movement with the full body, mind and soul. This idea of holistic movement is also interlinked with the idea of intention. In dialogue we are always playing with intentions, rehearsing to explore the subtext and eventually rendering a particular set of intentions to each line - thereby making artistic choices on each line. In combat we are often striking with intention, not merely mechanically striking. In fact, at higher levels of some martial arts, the intention itself is enough to produce a reaction in the adversary.
Perhaps the most memorable exploration of this concept occurs with the famous scene of Bruce Lee training with a young student of the martial arts. The first sidekick that the young lad throws at Lee is merely mechanical and Lee rebuffs it - insisting that the boy kick with feeling. The second kick is also rebuffed because the boy has kicked with anger. On the third try the boy manages to satisfy Lee when he delivers a kick with feeling. He delivers a movement with total immersion in the movement. If you merely substitute the sidekick with a line of dialogue, the three stages of developing intention are evident. The first is a mere mechanical delivery of the line bereft of intention. The second is an imposed intention, where there is an emotional investment - but not necessarily the right one or the organically inherent one. The final stage is when the line is delivered with the right intention and where the performer has disappeared because he has immersed himself totally in the line. Be it a line or a sidekick, we are then confronted with the idea of acting in totality, of acting with complete commitment to the intention.
This is where it begins to get mystical because in this state of total immersion, all intention begins to dissolve. Suddenly the line is simply delivered without thought. There is a moment of blankness and at the same time extreme clarity. The kick is delivered at the right instant, with the perfect timing seemingly without conscious effort on the part of the practitioner. And as Lee famously said, “It hits by itself.” In this state of heightened consciousness time begins to dilate. A moment can be sliced into a much longer time and there is a sense of detachment where the doer of the action is merely observing himself doing the action, outside of himself.
Perhaps this is the ultimate convergence of the two paths - a heightened state of consciousness that transcends the physical and ventures into the meta-physical. A state of freedom, of clarity - a mind-space beyond thought, where one is absolutely in the moment and absolutely free to act…
(This article first appeared in the PT Notes August 2011 issue. Read it here at http://www.prithvitheatre.org)
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
Yes this blog is still active!
I have so many unpublished posts now it is not funny.
Will update real soon!!!
Will update real soon!!!
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