I'm reading John Lithgow's memoir, Drama: An Actor's Education. I'm only about 90 pages in, but wow--if the rest of it is as good as it is so far I'm going to love it.
But this post isn't so much about the memoir as it is about something he says in the book. Allow me to preface it: in his 20s, Lithgow took up guitar as an excitedly expectant father. He never learned it well, but he can play well enough to come up with little children's ditties and such (which is all he was hoping for). Eventually he started putting on children's shows--he's even performed for 2000 kids in Carnegie Hall. It's a one-man act filled with all sorts of silliness and songs and games. Here's what he says about performing for children versus adults:
"The more I perform for children, the more I love it. They are a sensational audience for a stage performer and an exhilarating change of pace from adults. The goal of theater is a suspension of disbelief. With grown-ups, you never completely achieve it. Adults never entirely forget that they are watching actors pretend. You can certainly have an impact on them, move them, shock them, and make them laugh. But you're not fooling them for a moment. Adults always sit in a theater with the unwavering knowledge that they are watching a calculated piece of fiction.
Not so children. ... For them, there is little difference between artifice and reality. ... Their disbelief is in a constant state of suspension. Over time I've invented all sorts of tricks to take advantage of their innocence. ... They play the game passionately, over and over again, blithely unaware that I'm doing anything to manipulate them. They absolutely love to be tricked in this way, And in their response you can see the first stirrings of a grown-up's appetite for entertainment. Deep down, adults long to be tricked as well" (pg. 82-83).
Last night Mike, Madeleine, and I went to a performance of The Nutcracker. She stood, entranced, for an hour and when we suggested near the end of the intermission that we leave then instead of after the second act, she threw an enormous fit because the orchestra had just started retuning (not formally, only plucking a few strings, etc.) and we couldn't leave without hearing the rest of the music. Did she believe what was happening on stage? With all her heart. I'm sure she realized it wasn't happening to her, but I am also sure she believed it was happening to Clara. Watching Madie made it clear I was missing something.
So, as for adults wanting to be fooled in that way--now I do. Do you?
But this post isn't so much about the memoir as it is about something he says in the book. Allow me to preface it: in his 20s, Lithgow took up guitar as an excitedly expectant father. He never learned it well, but he can play well enough to come up with little children's ditties and such (which is all he was hoping for). Eventually he started putting on children's shows--he's even performed for 2000 kids in Carnegie Hall. It's a one-man act filled with all sorts of silliness and songs and games. Here's what he says about performing for children versus adults:
"The more I perform for children, the more I love it. They are a sensational audience for a stage performer and an exhilarating change of pace from adults. The goal of theater is a suspension of disbelief. With grown-ups, you never completely achieve it. Adults never entirely forget that they are watching actors pretend. You can certainly have an impact on them, move them, shock them, and make them laugh. But you're not fooling them for a moment. Adults always sit in a theater with the unwavering knowledge that they are watching a calculated piece of fiction.
Not so children. ... For them, there is little difference between artifice and reality. ... Their disbelief is in a constant state of suspension. Over time I've invented all sorts of tricks to take advantage of their innocence. ... They play the game passionately, over and over again, blithely unaware that I'm doing anything to manipulate them. They absolutely love to be tricked in this way, And in their response you can see the first stirrings of a grown-up's appetite for entertainment. Deep down, adults long to be tricked as well" (pg. 82-83).Last night Mike, Madeleine, and I went to a performance of The Nutcracker. She stood, entranced, for an hour and when we suggested near the end of the intermission that we leave then instead of after the second act, she threw an enormous fit because the orchestra had just started retuning (not formally, only plucking a few strings, etc.) and we couldn't leave without hearing the rest of the music. Did she believe what was happening on stage? With all her heart. I'm sure she realized it wasn't happening to her, but I am also sure she believed it was happening to Clara. Watching Madie made it clear I was missing something.
So, as for adults wanting to be fooled in that way--now I do. Do you?
2 comments:
Oh Madie! We love you so!
Yes!
I love the picture of Madie in this post. :-)
Post a Comment