A View From A Croatian Hilltop
By Dawn Arnold
When I look at the group photo of the Groznjan Workshop, I think, “Did Michael Chekhov imagine how far his ideas would go?” What else was going on in the world during those twelve days in July? Much that was difficult, even awful. Yet, in a tiny walled village in the hills of Croatia, something quite good was going on.
Groznjan was a unique environment for this summer’s International Workshop and Festival. The ancient village of Groznjan is designated now to be a place for artists to retreat from the world and work on their art. Away from the world, it seemed also away from time. Situated on a hilltop high enough to see the Adriatic Sea in the distance, it symbolized the aspirations of the participants. We had traveled to this special place to study Michael Chekhov’s approach to theatre art. This approach points us in the direction of our higher natures, what he calls the “creative imagination.” The inspirational aspect of Chekhov’s ideas is woven into his practical technique.
Groznjan offered a collaborative atmosphere. It was quiet, except for a terrific rain storm one night! It had the effect on me of such separation from the world that I could focus exclusively on what I was there to do. Chekhov once explained that the essence of his approach is, “imagination, concentration, and radiation.” Groznjan helped me to concentrate.
In Groznjan’s studios and theatre we filled our days with workshops in the Chekhov technique. Four ensembles were organized out of fifty-five participants. MICHA’s teachers rotated among the ensembles, each focusing the days work on one aspect of the Chekhov’s technique. Some days we were working on fundamental Chekhov training concepts which prepared our psychophysical instrument. Some days we focused on essential points of awareness which Chekhov called the Four Brothers. Other days we learned how to activate the character’s objective, worked on the atmosphere of the scene, the quality of the character, or the character’s obstacle, through the imagination.
We were all working on The Cherry Orchard. Our various ensembles included many Lyubovs, Anyas, Gayevs, and Lopakhins. It is one of the unique aspects of this approach that we could all be engaged, all working on our characters, and all feeling equally fulfilled as actors during the three hour sessions. No one was left to languish on the sidelines. Everyone was involved in the actor’s process, working on theatre from the inside, rather than from the outside. How rare it is that we can so focus on the actor’s process.
Michael Chekhov’s approach continues to be a revolution in acting and in theatre making. It is an acting technique, very practical, actually concise and in some ways, easy. The technique also has the effect of contributing to a dynamic shift in one’s sense of purpose and attitude. This revolution began in the early days of the last century when Stanislavski saw that we needed a better approach to how we tell the story of who we are. Chekhov took that baton from his master teacher and ran with it on a long journey, articulating a way for the actor to greatly improve not only our sense of how we act, but why we act. As we focused on reaching for artistic ideas in our workshops, we were writing new chapters in the book of acting, continuing the process of taking the art form forward.
It was interesting to me that while I was so embraced in the glow of this inspiring experience, I was always thinking about just how I would bring it home. I found myself making a resolution to try harder to incorporate Chekhov’s ideals into the activities of my career. As I listened to the questions that were asked in the Open Space Sessions after our workshops each day, I recognized this same thread in the minds of my colleagues. Some of the questions related to bringing the Chekhov way of working into academic theatre training programs, some related to the process of taking the essential training of the Chekhov method into rehearsal processes, from the different perspectives of directors and actors. We were clearly all working on the equation.
When we gathered in Groznjan, we brought with us some questions and some fears. Were we confronted by lower ideas about what theatre is and why we do it? Were we challenged by economic interferences? Were we tired of facing ignorance about what acting could be in order to uplift humanity? Were we worried how we might accomplish this better way of working in our art?
But as each day began, in our warm-up sessions, and then our morning workshops, our conversations at lunch, our afternoon sessions, our Open Space discussions, our dinners, our evening performances, we had the opportunity to unload, to encourage, to exchange ideas, to solve problems, to reinvent. The spirit of ensemble, engendered through this manner of teaching, gave us a vision of what it might be like to be able to create theatre in this unique way.
As we said goodbye on the edge of Groznjan, we knew that it might be a year before we would meet again - or more. When would we soon be in an ensemble of actors from Croatia, Canada, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Finland, Israel, Spain, USA, Denmark, Belgium, Italy, Kingdom of Bahrain, Slovakia, Germany, England, Serbia & Montenegro, Slovenia, New Zealand, and Netherlands? We greatly thanked our Croatian hosts who made our visit so lovely. But it didn’t feel like “goodbye.” It felt more like, “see you later.” Look at the photo. Chekhov’s 2004 global ensemble. Did he imagine this?