Syndication26 Nov 2008 - 04:57:37 pm
"Everyday I Love you Less and Less"
Friday, 15th February, 2008
Everyday I love you less and less
It's clear to see that you've become obsessed
I've got to get this message to the press
That everyday I love you less and less
And everyday I love you less and less
I've got to get this feeling off my chest
The Doctor says all I needs pills and rest
Since everyday I love you less and less
Unless, unless
I know, I feel it in my bones
I'm sick, I'm tired of staying in control
Oh yes, I feel a rat upon a wheel
i've got to know what's not and what's real
Oh yes I'm stressed, I'm sorry I digressed
Impressed you're dressed to SOS
Oh, and my parents love me
Oh, and my girlfriend loves me
Everyday I love you less and less
I can't believe once you and me did sex
It makes me sick to think of you undressed
Since everyday I love you less and less
And everyday I love you less and less
You're turning into something I detest
And everybody says that your a mess
Since everyday I love you less and less
Unless, unless
I know, I feel it in my bones
I'm sick, I'm tired of staying in control
Oh yes, I feel a rat upon a wheel
I've got to know what's not and what is real
Oh yes I'm stressed, I'm sorry I digressed
Impressed you're dressed to SOS
Oh, and my parents love me
Oh, and my girlfriend loves me
Oh, they keep photos of me
Oh, thats enough love for me
Oh, and my parents love me
Oh, and my girlfriend loves me
Oh, they keep photos of me
That everyday I love you less and less
And everyday I love you less and less
I've got to get this feeling off my chest
The Doctor says all I needs pills and rest
Since everyday I love you less and less
Unless, unless
I know, I feel it in my bones
I'm sick, I'm tired of staying in control
Oh yes, I feel a rat upon a wheel
i've got to know what's not and what's real
Oh yes I'm stressed, I'm sorry I digressed
Impressed you're dressed to SOS
Oh, and my parents love me
Oh, and my girlfriend loves me
Everyday I love you less and less
I can't believe once you and me did sex
It makes me sick to think of you undressed
Since everyday I love you less and less
And everyday I love you less and less
You're turning into something I detest
And everybody says that your a mess
Since everyday I love you less and less
Unless, unless
I know, I feel it in my bones
I'm sick, I'm tired of staying in control
Oh yes, I feel a rat upon a wheel
I've got to know what's not and what is real
Oh yes I'm stressed, I'm sorry I digressed
Impressed you're dressed to SOS
Oh, and my parents love me
Oh, and my girlfriend loves me
Oh, they keep photos of me
Oh, thats enough love for me
Oh, and my parents love me
Oh, and my girlfriend loves me
Oh, they keep photos of me
Oh, thats enough love for me
It just happens that this music was played during the workshop we had on Greek Theatre, more precisely, Medea. A Theatre company, I'm afraid I'm not quite sure from where, visited our school in order to give us a Master class with exercises, theories, body language, as well as basic concepts on Greek playwriting.
I was startled from the beginning to the end of it; startled and out of breath. I've finally realized it is true that we tend to work better when we're exhausted. The first thing we had to do, with Kaiser Chief's, 'Everyday I love you Less and Less', playing in the background, was to follow exactly was Jade and Jorge were doing (the main actors from the company): we ran around the hall desperately, avoiding every lunatic that was doing the same, then in a circle we jumped madly, shook our arms and legs as if trying to get some diabolic force possessing us out of our bodies. It was insane! Then more running and jumping and running and jumping, until, basically, the song was over. I could see everyone's faces: excited, uncomfortable (?), surprised, thrilled, intrigued, what the hell was going on and how was this all related to theatre? Well, it definitely was.
We had a series of exercises, for instance, the one I like to call, 'The I-am-stupid exercise'. It's all about deconstructing our body. We drop, bend our knees a bit and drag our bodies. Our back remains arched, our neck as if pulled to the front and we just relax all the muscles in our face. Our mouth opens and we get this 'I-am-stupid' expression. We then have to make low, grunting noises, but without forcing our throats, but as if to warm-up our vocal chords. Then we laugh, we laugh at each other, but stilll in character, still with that low, grunting voice. You see, the minute we laughed at how ridiculous we looked and how embarassing that exercise was, we just lost it completely, and that was when we really looked stupid, not when we were concenntrated, focussed, on what we were doing. Then we suddenly changed into the witch, the complete opposite. We took our brooms and laughed, histerically with that squeeky annoying, high-pitched voice. After that it was the baritone, opera singer. We sung like an opera singer would, projecting our voices along with our arms and trying to articulate our mouths as much as possible.
This was all warming up.
Exercises:
The Seven Stages. We were given a word, let's say: decay, and we had to be it in exactly seven stages, represented by seven steps. With every step we had to alter our body in order to gradually turn it into decay in it's worst form. It didn't mean we had to look rotten, but be rotten, be what it represents. Like the word lovely: we were not supposed to form a still image of a lovely person but one of lovely itself, as if it were a person. It is extremely hard to explain, even hard to perform. For the word terror, we didn't need to open our arms as much as we could as if trying to scare someone: they wanted subtle movements; almost imperceptible difference: a hand, a roughness in the eyes, a turning of the neck. At first I was completely over-acting, I could tell, but when I watched one of the company's members doing it along with a group of students, I could see that for decay she wasn't decaying at all: she wasn't all crimpled on the floor like most students, trying to mke weird shapes with her body; she was actually being decay, with a stiff mouth and rotten eyes, as if she inhaled and exhaled decay...It was all over her. She was it.
This reminds me of another exercise, in fact, the first exercise. In two groups which took turns, whilst the other watched as an audience, we were given words: cloud, dust, fog, apple, key, love, touch...Every possible word one can imagine, and with the sound of the clap we had to turn into that word. At first he would say, "Key" and we would all try to become a key, as in the object, but not as in what it represents. What does a key do? It unlocks doors...How can we be something that unlocks? It's funny because the actors would just raise their eyebrows and lift an arm for orange, or kneel for fog....
Jorge then gave us a script, that of Medea and asked us to learn around three lines for the next lesson. As simple as that. In addtion to that he taught us how to learn words. You see, a script is just made of wrods, directions, staging effects, but not emotions We, actors, have the tendency of reading scripts for the forst time and already putting feelings into it, adding volume, entonation. It shouldn't be like this. Words are simply words, and they should firstly be carefully read, so that they can later on be experimented and interpreted. When the word 'Today' is said. How does it sound? Try it for yourselves. To day. TOday. ToDAY. Change the volume of the syllabus. Doesn't the 'To' sound like a bomb dropping, and explosion, and the' day' the cloud, the foam, the dust that rises once this bomb has dropped? Well, this is what he explained to us, with fascinating passion for the theatre. It was inspiring.
This is Jorge!!!
I was startled from the beginning to the end of it; startled and out of breath. I've finally realized it is true that we tend to work better when we're exhausted. The first thing we had to do, with Kaiser Chief's, 'Everyday I love you Less and Less', playing in the background, was to follow exactly was Jade and Jorge were doing (the main actors from the company): we ran around the hall desperately, avoiding every lunatic that was doing the same, then in a circle we jumped madly, shook our arms and legs as if trying to get some diabolic force possessing us out of our bodies. It was insane! Then more running and jumping and running and jumping, until, basically, the song was over. I could see everyone's faces: excited, uncomfortable (?), surprised, thrilled, intrigued, what the hell was going on and how was this all related to theatre? Well, it definitely was.
We had a series of exercises, for instance, the one I like to call, 'The I-am-stupid exercise'. It's all about deconstructing our body. We drop, bend our knees a bit and drag our bodies. Our back remains arched, our neck as if pulled to the front and we just relax all the muscles in our face. Our mouth opens and we get this 'I-am-stupid' expression. We then have to make low, grunting noises, but without forcing our throats, but as if to warm-up our vocal chords. Then we laugh, we laugh at each other, but stilll in character, still with that low, grunting voice. You see, the minute we laughed at how ridiculous we looked and how embarassing that exercise was, we just lost it completely, and that was when we really looked stupid, not when we were concenntrated, focussed, on what we were doing. Then we suddenly changed into the witch, the complete opposite. We took our brooms and laughed, histerically with that squeeky annoying, high-pitched voice. After that it was the baritone, opera singer. We sung like an opera singer would, projecting our voices along with our arms and trying to articulate our mouths as much as possible.
This was all warming up.
Exercises:
The Seven Stages. We were given a word, let's say: decay, and we had to be it in exactly seven stages, represented by seven steps. With every step we had to alter our body in order to gradually turn it into decay in it's worst form. It didn't mean we had to look rotten, but be rotten, be what it represents. Like the word lovely: we were not supposed to form a still image of a lovely person but one of lovely itself, as if it were a person. It is extremely hard to explain, even hard to perform. For the word terror, we didn't need to open our arms as much as we could as if trying to scare someone: they wanted subtle movements; almost imperceptible difference: a hand, a roughness in the eyes, a turning of the neck. At first I was completely over-acting, I could tell, but when I watched one of the company's members doing it along with a group of students, I could see that for decay she wasn't decaying at all: she wasn't all crimpled on the floor like most students, trying to mke weird shapes with her body; she was actually being decay, with a stiff mouth and rotten eyes, as if she inhaled and exhaled decay...It was all over her. She was it.
This reminds me of another exercise, in fact, the first exercise. In two groups which took turns, whilst the other watched as an audience, we were given words: cloud, dust, fog, apple, key, love, touch...Every possible word one can imagine, and with the sound of the clap we had to turn into that word. At first he would say, "Key" and we would all try to become a key, as in the object, but not as in what it represents. What does a key do? It unlocks doors...How can we be something that unlocks? It's funny because the actors would just raise their eyebrows and lift an arm for orange, or kneel for fog....
Jorge then gave us a script, that of Medea and asked us to learn around three lines for the next lesson. As simple as that. In addtion to that he taught us how to learn words. You see, a script is just made of wrods, directions, staging effects, but not emotions We, actors, have the tendency of reading scripts for the forst time and already putting feelings into it, adding volume, entonation. It shouldn't be like this. Words are simply words, and they should firstly be carefully read, so that they can later on be experimented and interpreted. When the word 'Today' is said. How does it sound? Try it for yourselves. To day. TOday. ToDAY. Change the volume of the syllabus. Doesn't the 'To' sound like a bomb dropping, and explosion, and the' day' the cloud, the foam, the dust that rises once this bomb has dropped? Well, this is what he explained to us, with fascinating passion for the theatre. It was inspiring.
This is Jorge!!!
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