My Dinner with Andre Page #2

Finally, I got around to asking him

what he'd been up to in the last few years.

Oh, God. I'm just dying to hear it.

- Really?

- Really.

At first, he seemed

a little reluctant to go into it...

...so I just kept asking,

and finally he started to answer.

...conference

on paratheatrical work then.

And, uh, this must have been

about five years ago...

...and, uh, Grotowski and I were walking

along Fifth Avenue and we were talking.

You see, he'd invited me to come

to teach that summer in Poland.

You know, to teach a workshop

to actors and directors and whatever.

And I had told him that I didn't want to come,

because, really, I had nothing left to teach.

I had nothing left to say.

I didn't know anything.

I couldn't teach anything.

Exercises meant nothing to me anymore.

Working on scenes from plays

seemed ridiculous.

I - I didn't know what to do.

I mean, I just couldn't do it.

So he said, " Why don't you tell me anything

you'd like to have if you did a workshop for me.

No matter how outrageous.

And maybe I can give it to you. "

So I said,

"Well, if you could give me...

"40 Jewish women who speak

neither English nor French...

"either women who've been in the theater

for a long time and want to leave it...

"but don't know why...

"or young women who love the theater,

but have never seen a theater they could love.

"And if these women could play

the trumpet or the harp...

...and if I could work in a forest, I'd come. "

A week later, or two weeks later,

he called me from Poland.

And he said, " Well, 40 Jewish women...

that's a little hard to find. "

But he said, " I do have 40 women.

They all pretty much fit the definition. "

And he said, " I also have

some very interesting men...

"but you don't have to work with them.

"These are all people who have in common

the fact that they're questioning the theater.

"They don't all play the trumpet or the harp,

but they all play a musical instrument.

And none of them speak English. "

And he'd found me a forest, Wally.

And the only inhabitants of this forest

were some wild boar and a hermit.

So that was an offer I couldn't refuse.

I had to go.

So, I went to Poland, and it was this

wonderful group of young men and women.

And the forest he had found us

was absolutely magical.

You know, it was a huge forest.

I mean, the trees were so large...

...that four or five people linking their arms

couldn't get their arms around the trees.

So we were camped out beside

the ruins of this tiny little castle...

...and we would eat around this great stone slab

that served as a sort of a table.

And our schedule was that usually

we'd start work around sunset...

...and then generally we'd work

until about 6:
00 or 7:00 in the morning.

And then, because the Poles

love to sing and dance...

...we'd sing and dance until about

And then we'd have our food, which

was generally bread,jam, cheese and tea.

And then we'd sleep

from around noon to sunset.

Now, technically, of course...

Technically, the situation

is a very interesting one...

...because if you find yourself in a forest

with a group of 40 people...

...who don't speak your language,

then all your moorings are gone.

What do you mean exactly?

Well, what we'd do

is just sit there and wait...

...for someone to have

an impulse to do something.

Now, in a way that's... That's something

like a theatrical improvisation.

I mean, you know, if you were a director

working on a play by Chekhov...

...you might have the actors playing

the mother, the son and the uncle...

...all sit around in a room and do

a made-up scene that isn't in the play.

For instance, you might say to them...

"All right. Let's say that it's a rainy

Sunday afternoon on Sorin's estate...

...and you're all trapped

in the drawing room together. "

And then everyone would improvise...

...saying and doing what their character

might say and do in that circumstance.

Except that in this type of improvisation...

the kind we did in Poland...

...the theme is oneself.

So, you follow

the same law of improvisation...

...which is that you do whatever your impulse,

as the character, tells you to do...

...but in this case,

you are the character.

So there's no imaginary situation

to hide behind...

...and there's no other person

to hide behind.

What you're doing, in fact,

is you're asking those same questions...

...that Stanislavsky said the actor should

constantly ask himself as a character:

Who am I? Why am I here?

Where do I come from,

and where am I going?

But instead of applying them to a role,

you apply them to yourself.

- Hmm.

- Or, to look at it a little differently...

...in a way, it's like going

right back to childhood...

...where a group of children simply come

into a room or are brought into a room...

...without toys... And begin to play.

Grown-ups were learning

how to play again.

So, you would, uh,

all sit together somewhere...

...and, uh, you would play in some way.

- But what would you actually do?

- Well, I could give you a good example.

You see, we worked, uh, together

for a week in the city...

...before we went off to our forest.

And of course,

Grotowski was there in the city too.

I heard that every night,

he conducted something called a beehive.

I loved the sound of this beehive...

...so a night or two before we were

supposed to go off to the country...

I grabbed him by the collar, and I said,

"Listen, about this beehive.

"You know, I'd kind of like

to participate in one.

Just instinctively I feel it would

be something interesting. "

And he said, " Well, certainly.

In fact, why don't you, with your group...

...lead the beehive

instead of participating in one?"

You know, I... I got very nervous,

you know, and I said, " Well, what is a beehive?"

He said, " Well, a beehive is...

...at 8:
00 a hundred strangers

come into a room. "

I said, " Yes?" He said,

"Yes, and whatever happens is a beehive. "

I said, " Yes, but what am I supposed to do?"

He said, " That's up to you. "

I said, " No, no. I really don't want to do this.

I'll just participate. "

And he said,

"No, no. You lead the beehive. "

Well, I was terrified, Wally.

I mean, in a way, I felt on stage.

I did it anyway.

God. Well, tell me about it.

You see, there was this song...

I have a tape of it. I can play it for you one day.

And it's just unbelievably beautiful.

You see, one of the women in our group knew

a few fragments of this song of Saint Francis...

...and it's a song in which you

thank God for your eyes...

...and you thank God for your heart,

and you thank God for your friends...

...and you thank God for your life.

And it, uh... It repeats itself

over and over again.

And this became our theme song.

I really must play this thing

for you one day...

...because you just can't believe that a group

of people who don't know how to sing...

...could create something so beautiful.

So, I decided that when the people

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