Jia Min’s Experience (Participant) [she/her]
I entered the world of theatre telling myself that I was just an observer, uncovering what the different schools of thought in this world are, and how each of these proponents practice their respective ideas about what theatre is and what an actor is. But I forget that I am in fact entering the world as a student listening to a teacher, and a very obedient student at that.
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If I maintain a state of relativism, then I never have to choose, I never have to believe in something, I never have to judge, I never have to be judged. But while this emptiness feels like a good thing for someone who wants to be an actor, for someone who wants to be a neutral vessel, it creates an unwatchable half-heartedness, perhaps because of how the actions are rooted in the fear of being judged negatively.
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When I am unable to let go, each piece of feedback becomes another weight on the brain that obstructs my non-brain parts. I need to be open to the space, to the other participants. I need to be aware of every detail and every part of my body. I need to have a second layer or some kind of association behind every group of text or actions. I need the associations to flow. I need to have a clear relationship with someone else. I need to reach towards the unknown. I cannot be planning to reach to the unknown. I need to remember what happened so that I can reproduce it. I need to add details. I need to be within ‘character’. I need to communicate this clearly to someone else within the constraints of my fixed text and my actions. How do I listen to feedback and then free my mind to find a surprising, unplanned solution?
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As it got closer and closer to the performance, it got harder to let go of the desire to want to show some things, and not want to show others. In the process of creating and brainstorming, I grew attachments to certain actions and text and dislikes towards other texts. There was also in me a desire for everything to be special, for nothing to be repeated, to keep creating and creating so that I can choose the best of a pool, plan the perfect combination of words and actions. I didn’t want to let go of the moments I felt were genius, but then I couldn’t recreate them. But yet at the end of the scripting, the words and actions don’t matter anymore. They are just a channel for me to communicate something beyond, a trace of my self, and what will make me proud is if that something was strong, not if the words and actions were beautiful. (Conversely, I feel scared of how embarrassed and disappointed I might feel if there were nothing behind the beautiful words and actions I attach to – no need, no urgency, no memory, no clarity.)
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The world of stereotypes appears easy since stereotypes’ purpose is supposedly to simplify and reduce, and yet it is hard to enter. I enter a room thinking I should have ample material, before I find myself in obscure references and memories about police that are not stereotypical at all: the police who fails, the police who pretend, the police who is embarrassingly injured, the police who is a writer, a dancer. There was once we were told to act a stereotype as poorly as we could, and none of us could do it. Is it that something in us knows and avoids simplicity, or is it that we do not know how to be simple?
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Very often I forget to be open. I forget how closed I am. How uninterested I am in truly communicating, and instead just focused on speaking. How uninterested I am in responding to what you are doing, instead bulldozing my way through the world. I invite you because I believe you are more open than me, and because of your openness, I will be transformed.
