Constantin Stanislavski AN ACTOR PREPARES Translated by ELIZABETH REYNOLDS HAPGOOD A Theatre Arts Book ROUTLEIX5E NEWYORK Published by Roudedge/Theatre Arts Books A Division of Roudedge, Chapman and Hall, Inc. 29 West 35th Street, New York, N.Y. 10001 © Copyright 1936 by Theatre Arts, Inc, © Copyright 1948 by Elizabeth R. Hapgood © Copyright Renewed 1964 by Theatre Arts, Inc. All rights reserved under Pan-American Copyright Union © Copyright under Pan-American Copyright Union All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in a newspaper, magazine, radio, or television review, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher. 41st Printing, 1988 First paperback printing, 1989 Paperback ISBN 0-87830-983-7 PRINTED IN THE UNTIED STATES OF AMERICA CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR - v I. THE FIRST TEST - - - - -- I n. WHEN ACTING IS AN ART - 12 HI. ACTION - - - - - - - - 33 IV. IMAGINATION - - - - - - - 54 V. CONCENTRATION OF ATTENTION 72 VI. RELAXATION OF MUSCLES - - - -- 95 VII. UNITS AND OBJECTIVES - - - -- HI VHT. FAITH AND A SENSE OF TRUTH - - - - 127 DC. EMOTION MEMORY - - - - -- 163 X. COMMUNION - - - - - -- 193 XI. ADAPTATION - - - - - -- 223 XII. INNER MOTIVE FORCES - - - -- 244 Xm. THE UNBROKEN LINE - - - -- 252 XIV. THE INNER CREATIVE STATE - - - - 261 XV. THE SUPER-OBJECTIVE - - - - - 271 XVI. ON THE THRESHOLD OF THE SUBCONSCIOUS - 281 NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR F riends of Stanislavski have long known that he wished to leave a record of the methods by which the Moscow Art Company was built up, in such a form that it could be of use to actors and producers after his death. The first time he mentioned this wish to me he spoke of the projected work as a grammar of acting. In his own My Life in Art, and in similar expressions by persons who studied under him, a wholly different contribu tion has been made, one much easier, and in his opinion of lesser importance. A manual, a handbook, a working textbook has been his dream, and a most difficult one to realize. Since the modem theatre came into existence, something like three centuries ago, conventions have accumulated, outlived their usefulness, and become hardened, so that they stand in the way of fresh art and sincere emotion on the stage. For forty years the effort of die Moscow Art Company has been to get rid of what has become artificial, and therefore an impediment, and to prepare the actor to present the externals of life and their inner repercussions with convincing psychological truthfulness. How was this long and difficult process to be put into a book? Stanislavski felt die need of a freedom of speech, especially about the faults that harass actors, that he would not have if he used die names of his actual players, from Moskvin and Kacha- lov down to the very beginners, and therefore he decided on a semi-fiction form. That he himself appears under the name of Tortsov can scarcely escape the astute reader, nor is it difficult to see that die enthusiastic student who keeps the record of the lessons is die Stanislavski of half a century ago who was feeling NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR his way toward the methods best suited to mirror the modem world. There is no claim made here to actual invention. Hie author is most ready to point out that a genius like Salvini or Duse may use without theory the right emotions and expressions that to the less inspired but intelligent student need to be taught. What Stanislavski has undertaken is not to discover a truth but to bring the truth in usable form within die reach of those actors and producers who are fairly well equipped by nature and who are willing to undergo the necessary discipline. The book does include, again and again, statements of general principles of art, but the great task set for himself by the author has been the em bodiment of those principles in the simplest working examples, to be laboured over day after day and month after month. He has endeavoured to make the examples so simple, so near to the emotions that can be found as well in one country as in another, that they can be adapted to the needs of acton whether they happen to be bom in Russia or Germany, in Italy, France, Poland, or America. Of the importance of such a working record, in order that the greatest of modem acting companies shall shed its beams as far and as wide as may be, little need be said. What would we not give for detailed notes of how Moli&re rehearsed his own plays,—rehearsals of which echoes, true or outworn, remain in the Comldie Fran$aise? Or could the value be estimated a full picture of Shakespeare in the theatre, drilling his actors in The Tempest, Romeo and Juliet, or King Lear? £. Iv. H. CHAPTER ONE THE FIRST TEST i W e were excited as we waited for our first lesson with the Director, Tortsov, today. But he came into our class only to make the unexpected announcement that in order to become better acquainted with us, he wished us to give a per formance in which we should act bits from plays chosen by us. His purpose is to see us on the stage against die background of scenery, in make-up, in costume, behind footlights, with all the accessories. Only then, said he, will it be possible to judge our dramatic quality. At first only a few favoured the proposed test. Among these were a stocky young fellow, Grisha Govorkov, who had al ready played in some small theatre; a tall, beautiful blonde, called Sonya Veliaminova; and a lively, noisy chap named Vanya Vyuntsov. Gradually we all became accustomed to the idea of die com ing try-out. The shining footlights grew more tempting and the performance soon seemed interesting, useful, even necessary. In making our choices I, and two friends, Paul Shustov and Leo Pushchin, were at first modest. We thought of vaudeville or light comedy. But all around us we heard great names pro nounced—Gogol, Ostrovski, Chekhov, and others. Impercep tibly we found that we had stepped ahead in our ambitions and would play something romantic, in costume, in verse. I was tempted by the figure of Mozart; Leo by that of Salieri; Paul thought of Don Carlos. Then we began to discuss Shakes- 2 AN ACTOR PREPARES peare, and my own choice fell on Othello. When Paul agreed to play Iago, everything was decided. As we were leaving the theatre we were told that the first rehearsal was fixed for the next day. When I reached home, late, I took down my copy of Othello, settled myself comfortably on the sofa, opened my book and began to read. Hardly had I read two pages when I was seized with a desire to act. In spite of myself, my hands, arms, legs, face, facial muscles and something inside me all began to move. I declaimed the text. Suddenly I discovered a large ivory paper- cutter. I stuck it into my belt like a dagger. My fuzzy bath towel served as a white headcloth. Out of my sheets and blan kets I made a kind of shirt and gown. My umbrella was pressed into service as a scimitar, but I had no shield. Here it occurred to me that in the dining-room which adjoined my room there was a big tray. With the shield in my hand I felt myself to be a genuine warrior. Yet my general aspect was modern and civi lized, whereas Othello was African in origin and must have something suggestive of primitive life, perhaps a tiger, in him. In order to recall, suggest, and fix the walk of an animal, I began a whole new set of exercises. Many of these movements I felt to be in a high degree suc cessful. I had worked almost five hours without noticing the passage of time. To me this seemed to show that my inspiration was real 2 I awoke much later than usual, rushed into my clothes and dashed to the theatre. As I went into the rehearsal room, where they were waiting for me, I was so embarrassed that instead of apology I made the careless remark, 1 seem to be a little late.9 Rakhmanov, the Assistant Director, looked at me a long time reproachfully, and finally said: THE FIRST TEST 3 *We have been sitting here waiting, our nerves on edge, angry, and "it seems I am a little late". We all came here full of enthusiasm for the work waiting to be done, and now, thanks to you, that mood has been destroyed. To arouse a desire to create is difficult; to kill that desire is extremely easy. If I inter fere with my own work, it is my own affair, but what right have I to hold up the work of a whole group? The actor, no less than the soldier, must be subject to iron discipline.' For diis first offence Rakhmanov said he would limit himself to a reprimand, and not enter it on the written record kept of students, but that I must apologize immediately to all, and make it a rule in the future to appear at rehearsals a quarter of an hour before they begin. Even after my apology Rakhmanov was unwilling to go on, because he said the first rehearsal is an event in an artist's life, and he should retain the best possible impres sion of it. Today's rehearsal was spoiled by my carelessness; let us hope that tomorrow's will be memorable. • • • This evening I intended to go to bed early because I was afraid to work on my role. But my eye fell on a cake of choco late. I melted it with some butter and obtained a brown mess. It was easy to smear it on to my face, and make myself into a Moor. As I sat in front of my mirror I admired at length the flash of my teeth. I learned how to show them off and how to turn my eyes until the white showed* In order to make the most of my make-up I had to put on my costume, and once I was dressed I wanted to act; but I didn't invent anything new; I merely repeated what I had done yesterday, and now it seemed to have lost its point. However, I did think I had gained some thing in my idea of how Othello ought to look. 4 AN ACTOR PREPARES 3 Today was our first rehearsal I arrived long ahead of time. The Assistant Director suggested that we plan our own scenes and arrange die properties. Fortunately, Paul agreed to every thing I proposed, as only the inner aspects of Iago interest him. For me the externals were of greatest importance. They must remind me of my own room. Without this setting I could not get back my inspiration. Yet no matter how I struggled to make myself believe I was in my own room all my efforts did not convince me. They merely interfered with my acting. Paul already knew die whole of his role by heart, but I had to read my lines out of the book, or else to get by with approxi mations. To my astonishment die words did not help me. In fact they bothered me, so that I should have preferred to do without them entirely, or to cut the number in half. Not only the words, but also the thoughts, of die poet were foreign to me. Even the action as outlined tended to take away from me that freedom which I had felt in my own room. Worse than that, I didn't recognize my own voice. Besides, neither die setting nor the plan which I had fixed during my work at home would harmonize with the playing of Paul. For example, how could I introduce, into a comparatively quiet scene, between Othello and Iago, those flashes with my teeth, rollings of my eyes, which were to get me into my part? Yet I could not break away from my fixed ideas of how to act die nature I conceived of as savage, nor even from the setting I had prepared. Perhaps die reason was that I had nothing to put in its place. I had read the text of the role by itself) I had played die character by itself, without relating the one to the other, The words interfered with the acting, and the acting with die words. • * •