Tips from a Great Actor (well, almost!) by Penny Dolan

Sir Ian McKellen’s the star of my post today.

Last Sunday, sat in the theatrical darkness at the City Screen York, knowing the sunshine was glittering on the River Ouse outside, but I did not care. The day was McKellen’s birthday, so there was a special “Live from London’s South Bank” screening, celebrating his life and work, with lots of clips, photographs, moments recreated from his childhood and early life, extracts, interviews and more. The sunshine was well lost that afternoon.

I rarely read or hear the serious thoughts of any kind of creative artist without thinking “That’s just how it is with writing!”

So what did the wonderful Sir Ian say or do that I can share in today’s post?

McKellen explained the audience can’t always see facial expressions so stage actors use their whole body to create the character: the stance, the silhouette, the meaningful gestures. He devises a walk for every one of his characters, a variation of the writing workshop exercise that begins with an imagined pair of shoes or boots.

So, say I, use your writing to help your reader see your character; make use of those significant gestures and traits – but don’t overdo it, darlings!.

McKellen, as a young man, was taken on by the National Theatre Company, then at the Old Vic in London. After a while, feeling he was playing to tourist audiences, he moved back north to  the audiences he felt loved and knew the theatre, and where he could play a variety of repertory parts and gain more experience.

So, say I, keep studying, learning, keep your curiosity. Try out new things away from the brightest lights.  Who is your reader? Who could be your reader? The famous places aren't always what you need..

McKellen, after he came out as gay, felt his confidence in his work and self grew and he felt he became a better actor.

So, say I: be authentic, be the writer you are inside - even as you keep learning and working.

McKellen, as a young boy, was frequently backstage at his local theatre. He was was always interested in the other people there: the players, the artistes. the costume makers, the technicians and all the backstage hands. When he got into film, he found all sorts of people there whose purpose was to support you in your acting work, to help you be the best actor you can be.

So say I, although being a writer is a solitary task, if and when you are being published, lots of other people will be involved in the process. Learn about their roles and work and what they can or might be able to do to help you. Be friendly and interested in all the other people who look after your book.

McKellen, at the end of one poignant bit of film – the last show of Godot -  suddenly  escapes to a quiet room and weeps, not knowing his mic was on. He believes this is the last time he’ll act and the sound is heartbreaking.

Asked about it in the Interview afterwards, he commented “That was how it felt.” Then a sigh, and that rueful, twinkly smile, he added “ but of course six months later, I was working again and had forgotten . . .”

So, say I, sometimes the writing life becomes hard and painful  so give yourself time to get over that moment, and then get going again. If the art is what you do, keep on and keep  the faith. Persistence is all

Of course, Sir Ian Mckellen may not have meant any of those moments to apply to writing, but that’s how I heard them.  Also, if you get a chance to catch this screening another time and place, do go and see MCKELLAN: PLAYING THE PART

Penny Dolan

Why art matters - Lily Hyde

They can’t put on plays in the evening in Donetsk, because of the curfew. They have had to hang a sign on the theatre entrance saying ‘Please don’t bring weapons with you’ – but not everyone obeys. The stage is not just their calling anymore; it is literally home. The actors are living in the playhouse, because their houses have been destroyed by shelling or are on the frontline. 

One recent Sunday afternoon they performed Chekhov. The sound of shelling roared from the suburbs, but inside the theatre a string quartet played Bach to the pre-performance crowd. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me down to lie in green pastures…  A frock-coated actor shepherded his flock into the darkened auditorium, leaving behind all the troubles and dread for two brief hours, two magical hours made of lighting and costume and make-believe – and words, words, Chekhov’s wry, witty, warmly humane war of words. That, to set against the real war outside.

Afterwards in the dressing rooms, where actors live now with their children in a world of mirrors and make-up, where jars of home-made gherkins jostle with tubes of facepaint, we drank to peace. And to art, to theatre and literature and music, all those hopelessly fragile, endlessly enduring things. 

         

 www.lilyhyde.com