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A LANDSCAPE CALLED NOT AND NOW: PERFORMING SELECTED SCENES FROM A PLAY BY GERTRUDE STEIN by HEATHER ARVIDSON B A . , The University of British Columbia, 2002 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (ENGLISH) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA August 2005 © Heather Arvidson, 2005 11 Abstract This report develops an interpretation of Gertrude Stein's theory that plays could be landscapes rather than narratives, and describes the project of producing part of Stein's "A Play Called Not and Now" as a landscape play. Over the course of a twoweek workshop and a final performance on June 2, 2005 at UBC's Telus Studio Theatre, I directed a team of actors in an adaptation of scenes from the play. Informed by her theory, this collaborative project provided the opportunity to concretely work through Stein's idea of what was, in her time, a radically new kind of theatre. The staging was based on physical theatre exercises inspired loosely by Anne Bogart's Viewpoints. These provided a method for realizing Stein's sketch of a spatial theatre in which spectators can remain continuously present to the sounds, sights, lights and presences that surround them. The ensemble's movement and dynamic relationships created a physical landscape to fill the basic, elliptical structure of a play that Stein scripted in "A Play Called Not and Now." In this way, we took up Stein's invitation to collaboratively animate her script and pose it in relation to a physical composition, elucidating both text and theory in the process. iii Contents Abstract Contents Acknowledgments ii iii iv Introduction Theatrical landscape The making a play of "A Play Called Not and Now" Critical territory A landscape called not and now 1 1 3 5 7 Appendix A: Selected scenes from "A Play Called Not and Now" Appendix B: Performance playbill Works Cited 13 22 23 iv Acknowledgments I would like to thank my supervisor Adam Frank for his creative support and collaboration, and my committee members, Patsy Badir, for her encouragement at crucial moments, and Colleen Lanki, for her introduction to physical theatre techniques. Thanks also to Sid Katz, management and staff at the Chan Centre for providing performance space at the Telus Studio Theatre, the Dean of Arts for their support, Vancouver Film School for providing rehearsal space, Vince Arvidson for filming the performance and Michael Undem for editing and producing the DVD. Special thanks to the cast, who were amazing to work with: Lindsay Barton, Daniel Bruce, Jenny Craig, Wendy Dallion, Alex Day, Olivia Delachanal, Kellen Fo, Jenny Kassen, Siobhan McCormick, Kevin Spenst and Michael Undem. 1 Introduction This project aimed to investigate Gertrude Stein's dramatic theory by putting it on the stage. Over the course of a two-week workshop and a final performance on June 2, 2005 at UBC's Telus Studio Theatre, I directed an ensemble of actors in an adaptation of scenes from Stein's "A Play Called Not and Now." Informed by her theory, this collaborative project provided the opportunity to concretely work through Stein's idea of what was, in her time, a radically new kind of theatre. This report documents the work of my master's thesis, comprised of the "Not and Now" workshop, performance and collaboratively rewritten script (see Appendix A), as well as a speech given after the show, a colloquia presentation to the department of English, and this paper. Theatrical landscape Stein's particular notion of a play came as a response to what she considered the nervousness of watching traditional, narrative-driven theatre. She felt that "before the play had commenced it was over and at no time had you been ready" {Lectures in America 258), since from the moment the curtain rose, you had to keep pace with the play's story even as you tried to figure out who was who on stage and allow your eye the pleasure of roaming the scene. Stein's solution - and legacy - was to eliminate the narrative arc. Although she is little known as a playwright and scarcely produced, she was nonetheless an influential figure of American theatre in the twentieth century. Marc Robinson credits her for founding the alternative American theatre, and Stephen J. Bottoms considers her the "single biggest influence on [off-off-Broadway's] evolving aesthetic" of 1960s avant-garde (147). She had spent little time in theatres since childhood, but 1 wrote nearly eighty plays by the end of her career. What revolutionized American 1 See also Elinor Fuchs, Marvin Carlson, Kate Davy, Sarah Bay-Cheng and Arnold Aronson. 2 theatre, however, was not so much her scripts as her conclusion that "anything that was not a story could be a play" (Lectures in America 261). In her dramatic compositions Stein intended "to make a play the essence of what happened" but "to express this without telling what happened" America {Lectures In 261). What would replace the event is an intensity of movement, a vibrational hum of layered, dynamically shifting verbal and spatial relationships on stage. Inspired by the French countryside, she thus reconceptualizes plays as "landscapes": the landscape has its formation and as after all a play has to have formation and be in relation one thing to the other thing and as the story is not the thing as any one is always telling something then the landscape not moving but being always in relation, the trees to the hills the hills to the fields the trees to each other any piece of it to any sky and then any detail to any other detail. (Lectures in America 264-65) "The essence of what happened," then, is composed of the relations between dramatic elements, just as landscape is composed of relations between objects visually perceived. The experience of watching a landscape play would be like watching and listening to a performance in a language one doesn't speak: "a very simple direct and moving pleasure" {Lectures in America 259) that, as Betsy Alayne Ryan explains, is "either not based on an alternate reality at all (the dance, bullfights) or based on a story that [i]s so obvious (melodrama) or so foreign (Bernhardt) that it could be ignored in the face of the physical relationship of actor and audience" (Ryan 46). Spontaneous, visceral response would eclipse rising action and climax. Arnold Aronson notes that when "relationships replaced sequentiality" (28) in Stein's plays, "part of the creative process [shifted] from the artist to the spectator" (31). Having quit the linear compulsion of narrative time, Stein hoped to keep the 3 audience continuously present in the spatial experience of being in a theatre. Free to move in and out of the concrete, physical spectacle, viewers could compose the landscape according to their particular viewing practices, measuring in their own time any detail against any other. The making a play of "A Play Called Not and Now" The necessary physicality of Stein's landscapes poses particular problems for an English study based on textual analysis. If even the spectator has her work set out for her, the reader might well be overwhelmed by the interpretive work required. Too open and too opaque, Stein's play texts often neglect to attribute speaking parts or differentiate them from stage directions. Despite a surplus of detail, readers are required to make preliminary (i.e., writerly) interpretive decisions about such basics as dialogue, on-stage activity and character. Figuring out what or if a play means comes second to adapting and committing to a strategy for seeing it: for making Stein's signature linguistic play somehow physical in the drama of nothing happening. Indeed, this performance project was inspired by challenged reading. I first worked on Stein's plays and dramatic theory in an English graduate seminar in the fall of 2004, taught by Professor Adam Frank. The sort of play Stein was proposing was exciting to both of us, and since the play texts themselves so evaded literary analysis, we decided to attempt producing one. Our first steps in January, 2005 involved a number of consultations. We met with Professor Patsy Badir from the English department, who shared insights from producing The Wood-Carver's Wife in April, 2000. Kevin Kerr, the co-artistic director of Vancouver's Electric Company, was writer in residence at Green College during the winter of 2005, and he offered consultation and contacts in Vancouver's theatre community. We also met early on with Kirsty Johnston, Gayle Murphy and Jay Henrickson from the Theatre Department, who all offered valuable perspective. 4 Although we had hoped to partner to some extent with the Theatre Department, they were unfortunately too pressed for resources to offer anything more than encouragement. Finding that resources were extremely limited and the project much bigger than we had imagined, we changed tactics in March. We have Professor Jerry Wasserman from Theatre and English to thank for his timely guidance. At his suggestion, we scaled back the full production to a two-week workshop that I would direct with a staged reading at the end. This would allow space to undertake a truly experimental project using some developing notions of physical theatre, a huge cast and a script with a lot of gaps. From early April until the show on June 2,1 worked under Adam's supervision to find and audition eleven actors, rewrite the script with stagings in mind, run the workshop to produce twenty minutes of performance material, and work out the details of where to perform it. To locate performers, I sent a flyer to the UBC Players Club and the acting departments at SFU, UBC, and Capilano, Douglas and Langara Colleges. Several actors turned up by word of mouth, and one actor sent the flyer out on a list-serve for professional actors in the city. We held two sets of auditions to secure eight actors, and I met for coffee with a number of others until we had eleven. The play originally had twelve characters, but we cut one (A woman who looks like Katherine Cornell) after losing one performer to other commitments. The cast's names and roles are listed in the performance program (see Appendix B). Rehearsals ran two evenings a week and Saturday afternoons from May 17 to 31. These seven rehearsals added up to only about twenty-four hours to work together to cover a lot of ground. Rehearsals began shakily under novice directing, but the group gelled early on and the scenes took shape steadily despite dragging perpetually behind schedule (the second scene wasn't completely set until our second to last rehearsal). Throughout the process I was impressed by and grateful to the cast's commitment and creativity. 5 By the first rehearsal, I had rewritten almost the entire script with possible scenes selected and loose ideas of stagings in mind, but rewriting continued (frantically) throughout the first week of rehearsals as we learned as a group to recognize the tone, pace and possibilities of the piece and ran into parts that weren't working. Our staging developed out of basic Viewpoints work, which I'll describe below. I read everything I could find on Viewpoints, but am very grateful to local theatre artist and UBC Theatre instructor Colleen Lanki, who generously shared her expertise in physical theatre with us on two occasions. She secured bearings for us in new territory and invaluably enriched the group's energy and understanding of the project. We rehearsed downtown at Vancouver Film School (VFS). Rehearsal space is very hard to find without a budget, so I am thankful for VFS's entirely unvested generosity in support of the arts. Telus Studio Theatre was similarly secured by the goodwill of staff and management at the Chan Centre. Managing Director Sid Katz agreed on behalf of the Board of Directors to host the performance in the Telus as my thesis defense. I couldn't have dreamed of a better space to perform this piece, and am, again, very grateful for this singular gesture in support of artistic production on campus. The performance's only costs were incurred for Telus' front of house and technical staff, and were covered by a $400 grant from the Dean of Arts. The performance began at 8:00 pm, and was followed by my ten-minute speech and a question period. An audience of about 100 attended by invitation. Critical territory Our performance was rooted in the critical claim that Stein's theatre is vitally physical. This contentious interpretation of Stem's theory, however, runs counter to the thesis of the most current book in the field. In This": Gertrude Stein's Metadrama, "They Watch Me as They Watch Jane Palatini Bowers argues that Stein's plays are 6 relentlessly text-centred to the extent that "they oppose the physicality of performance" (2). Bowers refuses Stein's notion of landscape on the basis that her plays do not "represent, evoke, or in some manner correspond to a specific place" (25), i.e. a landscape. Arguing that the plays are exercises in making language as spatial and material as other performative elements, Bowers renames Stein's dramatic category as "langscapes" to "reflect the true 'subject' of these plays" (3). In her view, all other elements stand static in the thrall of textual primacy. These plays, it would seem, are hardly plays at all. Martin Puchner takes up Bowers' line, dubbing Stein's best known play, Saints in Three Acts, Four "a closet drama to be performed." In his study of dramatic texts that "actively resist being staged and co-opt the world of the theatre," he finds Stein's exemplary. They fulfill, after all, the sine qua non of the closet drama, in that "changes must be made in order to bring [them] onto the stage" (101). Yet if the crux of Puchner's and Bowers' arguments is that Stein's landscapes are not written in a form ready for physical performance, we all more or less agree. We differ perhaps in what we perceive to be the acceptable threshold of concrete direction to make a script performable. While Bowers finds that Stein's plays "oppos[e] the dynamism of actor and action" to "create a kind of verbal stasis within theatre time," I interpret Stein's plays (along with Betsy Alayne Ryan), as rigorously movement-centred, thriving in the spaces the texts leave blank. Whereas Bowers and Puchner conclude that the play texts, therefore, insist triumphantly on remaining texts, even as they are performed, I conclude that the texts just require more imaginative work by the director to compose a landscape out of Stein's sparest suggestions of character, action and atmosphere. As Stein puts it, the texts require someone else to "d[o] the making a play o f her writing {Everybody's 325). Autobiography 7 Stein's phrase to make a play o/might simply refer to producing a play, yet her awkward verbal phrase and definite article {to do the making...) suggest that she knew she had laid aside more work than that. It suggests that her plays are not plays until someone takes up her writing and projects it onto the stage. Again, this echoes Bowers and Puchner, yet far from concluding that the plays must therefore be closet dramas (to be performed or otherwise) or metadramas (i.e., at a remove from theatrical presence), it may be that Stein's plays come with an implicit invitation to a collaborative reader to animate them by posing them in relation to a physical composition. As Ryan points out, in "Byron a Play," Stein cheekily defers responsibility for the play's staging with a challenge to someone else to take it on: "a play is this. They manage to stage this" (336). Indeed, she confides elsewhere, "whenever I write a play it is a play because it is a thing I do not see but it is a thing somebody can see that is what makes a play to me" {Everybody's Autobiography 199). She writes the bare structure for someone else to see and fill with emotion, movement and mood. The text itself - unwieldy and nonspecific - is layered on top of a staging that is someone else's creation. Instead of being something to act out, the text is a structure to act in relation to. The text resists not performance but reading. A landscape called not and now "A Play Called Not and Now" is written mostly as stage directions, many of which are abstract. A major part of staging it was first to decide what parts to use as dialogue, who should say what, and what should be going on physically in the scene as they say it. While a viewer may wish for a detailed description of dramatic events in the performance, it is probably more productive and more in-keeping with Stein's theoretical precepts to instead offer her idea of understanding. Stein considered a state of pleased engagement to be a form of comprehension; if you enjoyed you 8 understood, and if you understood, you enjoyed. The performance's recording on DVD is its own best description. It is helpful, however, to consider the play's historical context. "A Play Called Not and Now" was inspired by a Beverly Hills party given in Stein's honour on April 1, 1935. She was very recently a star at this point, and by her own account was 2 offered her pick of Hollywood to dine with (Everybody's Autobiography?,). She met many of "Not and Now"'s characters that night. Among those in attendance were the likes of Charlie Chaplin, Dashiell Hammett (who invented the hard-boiled detective novel and wrote The Maltese Falcon) and Anita Loos (who was a well known Hollywood writer at the time, best remembered now for her novel Blonds Gentlemen Prefer and a few witty quips, like "diamonds are a girl's friend"). Written in 1936, the play gathers a number of socialites and celebrities from that party and from Stein's circle in Europe, including Pablo Picasso and English composer Lord Berners. But as Mrs. Andrew Green would say in the play, it's not Charlie Chaplin, Dashiell Hammett or Anita Loos that we're interested in, but just the ones that looked like them. The play's characters are named as "a man who looks like Charlie Chaplin," "a woman who looks like Anita Loos," etc. As suggested by the look-alikes, the play scrutinizes the relation between looking like, which is a question of identity as conferred by others, and looking at, which is an authentic act of perceiving and composing one's world. The play explores this distinction, investigating the way that the pressure to perform can interfere with a sense of being that comes from inside. This is a tricky question for anyone, but fame raises the stakes. All but three of the play's characters are modeled after celebrities. The look-alike character names indicate what must have been Stein's experience meeting these early Hollywood legends: that they were a lot like other people but bore certain resemblances to For descriptions of the party, see The Letters of Gertrude Stein and Thornton Wilder20-21n and Everybody's Autobiography 2-A. 2 9 certain famed personas. Stein's character names (a man/woman who looks like...) signal the celebrities' simultaneous imitation of and estrangement from an interior, authentically creating self. This tension is reiterated in the play by the actors' simultaneous imitation of and estrangement from the namesakes of their characters. Celebrity identity was a particularly personal question for Stein at this point in her career. She had published The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas three years earlier in 1933, and it was a huge hit. After almost thirty years of writing obscure pieces that circulated mostly in the Parisian avant-garde and were scarcely published, Stein suddenly was a best-selling author and an American celebrity on tour. Her lectures in 1934 gathered mass audiences across the country. She reports that this experience gave her a spell of writer's block. What Stein faced post- Autobiography, and what she faces in "A Play Called Not and Now" is the complex relationship between artistic production and celebrity identity; between someone who writes and the famous writer that that someone looks like. This problem of identity is what the play is about, but, true to Stein's landscape theory, it doesn't form a narrative. "Not and Now" keeps up a buzz of excitement - the essence of some things happening like hints of a fashionable cocktail party, a melodramatic murder mystery, an intriguing invention, and a bewildered conclusion - even as it skips representation of the events themselves. The potential for story hovers but doesn't land, or if it does, disperses almost as soon as it's settled. The first scene we performed was the very beginning of the play. This is the audience's chance to make acquaintance with the characters. This scene has the atmosphere of a party's awkward beginning, before people are sure that they're prepared to stay. Once they are (and they even say so), some rivalry develops between the men and the women, which is broken by a mysterious interlude. Again - we miss the event but we get the tension. The second scene skips ahead to about the middle of the play. It offers a laboratory for examining characters' various relations to money - 10 Dashiell Hammett, for example, is confused by it, not knowing whether he writes for art or cash; Charlie Chaplin, a billionaire in the 1920's, is cagey because his image is money; and Lord Berners is aristocratically facile because money has never been worth considering. This scene is loosely a dance number, ending with a chorus line where the women deconstruct money as a word, indicating perhaps the shrewdest relation of any of the characters to money as a cultural symbol. The physical framework for this performance was inspired by the theater practices of the contemporary American director, Anne Bogart. Stemming from Mary Overlie's technique for isolating performers' attention to various performative elements, Bogart's system of Viewpoints bases scene development on kinesthetic response among actors and the layering of text with physical performance. Blocking develops largely through improvised scenes in which the group is directed to focus intuitively on physical variables like speed, level, gesture, direction, architecture, spatial relationship, shape, repetition and duration. 3 The ensemble work in our performance drew from these Viewpoints directives and took them in directions of our own. Viewpoints provided a starting point for composing landscape, and many of the project's most significant insights have come out of the group's attention to its physical impulses and dynamics. Measuring individual volition against the impulse of the group, actors create and respond to what poet and Stein-critic Lynn Hejinian calls "long-wave and short-wave sympathetic vibrations" (113): the short ones of nearby encounters, and the long ones that reach out to the peripheries to encompass the entire group's energy. One person performing a precise gesture or breaking into a run or lying suddenly on the ground may spark a reaction from the person beside her, or it may send ripples that change the rhythm of the entire group. This sort of listening is compositional - both for the actors who are moved by it and for the spectator who reads the movement. 3 For further explanation of Viewpoints, see Bogart, Dixon and Smith, Lampe and especially Herrington. 11 Unchoreographed but yet not entirely improvisational, the idea is to let some patterns evolve and reemerge every time; to let some amount of blocking develop but without ever fully setting into determinate choreography. Indeed, in landscape, this is what we're looking for: everything in relation and having its formation, but being dynamic, alive and attentive; to be not composed but composing in every second. Playful awareness was our keystone. The intensity of actors' attention to each other during the movement segments of the performance created just the sort of physical excitement that I imagine Stein was looking for in a play. The text offered an additional dynamic, rather than an authoritative program to act out. Relationships formed and reformed through actors' awareness of each other, their physical coincidences in the space, and through language. This view of organic, physical dynamism butts up once again against Bowers' perception that "Stein's is a [static] theatre of language" (2). In explanation of Stein's supposed disillusionment with performance, Bowers writes that "performance is a 4 rehearsed and repeated enactment. Ritualized and, in a sense, fossilized through repetition, the text [for Stein] was no longer immediate. It was no longer the game itself, but rather the book of rules" (84). While Bowers rightly identifies the characteristics of traditional, narrative-driven theatre that Stein found uninteresting, she refuses to grant that Stein took the next step towards creating a theatre on her own terms. Bowers concludes, rather, that Stein became unconvinced "of the possibility of reconciling her own poetic process and product with playwriting and with the performance of her play" (87). Stein does report that in her first experience of seeing one of her plays staged (Four Saints in Three Acts in Chicago, 1934), she was "less excited about [it] than [she] had expected to be" since it was her "opera but it was so far away" {Everybody's Autobiography 199). But it nonetheless turns out to be "very satisfying" on the next page; Stein "liked looking at it and [...] liked hearing" (200). Being far away turns out to be literal, since the show improves after intermission when her host finds seats closer to the stage. Ii "Plays," she concedes that "it did almost what I wanted.. .anyway I am pleased" (269). 4 12 T o the contrary, however, plays and p l a y w r i t i n g w o u l d seem to offer language all the liveliness and iterative variability that Stein hoped to create i n her w r i t i n g . In our ensemble, playful physical relationships d i d the w o r k that Stein's playful words do. Actors created w i t h their bodies a shifting landscape of relationships through repetitions, redirections, resonances, shifting levels, h i n g i n g associations and experimentations i n time - effects that are all so reminiscent of the ways i n w h i c h Stein was listening to grammatical structures and composing her poetries. W h a t the process o f staging "Not and N o w " revealed was just h o w alive the text was, even once rewritten i n an attempt to p i n d o w n a certain interpretation o f it. Far from becoming ritualized or fossilized, the text offered parameters for an ecosystem that proceeded to produce different weather patterns and different events w i t h every regeneration. The semi-improvisatory nature of our b l o c k i n g ensured that each rehearsal was a n e w composition. Different shapes, games and energies came out of each r u n , reconfiguring the context into w h i c h scripted words erupted. A s a result, lines meant differently each time; dialogic dynamics shifted and relationships were renegotiated. This aliveness, I believe, was the spark of Stein's delight i n theatrical and social landscapes, and i n her project of w r i t i n g plays for someone else to see. 13 Appendix A : SELECTED SCENES F R O M A PLAY CALLED NOT AND NOW by GERTRUDE STEIN (adapted by Heather Arvidson and Adam Frank) Prologue: Setting the stage 5 [All characters on stage standing upper stage center in four rows; the three narrators, Dr. Gidon, Mrs. Andrew Greene and David Green, are hidden in back row. They hang loose and wait. Dr. Gidon steps out from behind to front stage right.] DR. GIDON: The difference between not and now. That is what makes any one look like some one. [Mrs. Andrew Greene steps out from behind the characters to front stage right.] MRS. ANDREW GREENE: All the characters are there and the one that looks like Dr. Gidon is the one that says what has just been said only it is not what Dr. Gidon would say but it is said by the one that is like him. DR. GIDON: The characters are now all in order. MRS. ANDREW GREENE: They first meet as each one is just about to go away. DAVID GREEN: Hello they say and they do each go away. [Each character turns to another and says "Hullo," then leaves the rows and begins to mill (grid-movement: direction, speed, level, gestures "hailing cab" and "hullo").] MRS. ANDREW GREENE: Not that that makes any difference, as the real one is not there but just the one that is just like him. DR. GIDON: This is what they all say. 5 Corresponds to p. 422-424 in Stein's Last Operas and Plays. 14 ALL (separately and together in vocal symphony): Anybody can get impatient. [Characters have been milling but they come to a stop. Pause/take a breath.] ALL TOGETHER (loudly): Anybody can get impatient with an aurora borealis! [Characters start milling again quickly, high intensity.] DAISY FELLOWES: One has a bad temper. [Characters head towards their home base on stage.] LADY DIANA GRAY: And the other is irritable. ANITA LOOS: The one like Picasso meets the one who looks like David Greene. [Once characters have reached home bases:] GERTRUDE ATHERTON: And then they all come around and say that they are not going away. [On "away" everyone strikes their signature pose, except for Gertrude Atherton who takes an extra moment to pose. Everyone is now in character.] HAMMETT: I am a man who looks like Dashiell Hammett and I am not going away. PICASSO: I am a man who looks like Picasso and I am not going away. CHARLIE CHAPLIN: I am a man who looks like Charlie Chaplin and I am not going away. LORD BERNERS: I am a man who looks like Lord Berners and I am not going away. DAVID GREEN: I am a man who looks like David Green and I am not going away. ANITA LOOS: I am a woman who looks like Anita Loos and I am not going away. GERTRUDE ATHERTON: I am a woman who looks like Gertrude Atherton and I am not going away. 15 LADY DIANA GREY: I am a woman who looks like Lady Diana Grey and I am not going away. DAISY FELLOWES: I am a woman who looks like Daisy Fellowes and I am not going away. MRS. ANDREW GREENE: I am a woman who looks like Mrs. Andrew Greene and I am not going away. DR. GIDON: A l l who look like any one of them do stay. [Dr. Gidon and Mrs. Andrew Greene leave to take seats at the edge of stage right and left respectively. On Dr. Gidon's movement all other characters move to their positions.] ACT I: Setting the stage, continued [Men come together at lower stage right (somewhat confined to that space through most of the scene) in an ego-grooming ritual; they show off for each other expressions of authority and charisma, encouraging each other in friendly rivalry. Dashiell Hammett, Picasso, David Green, Lord Berners, Charlie Chaplin, in this order, stand around making witty remarks, guffawing somewhat bashfully. Two rounds of gestures. Meanwhile women have brought a tablecloth to upper to mid stage left. They listen to the men offhandedly as they hold the cloth up at four corners to suggest a table.] ANITA LOOS: They hesitate about making witty remarks to each other GERTRUDE ATHERTON: but they do do it just the same. LADY DIANA GREY: This is what they say. [Anita Loos mocks Lord Berners with an exaggerated version of his gesture; women drop the table cloth.] MEN (overlapping): We do not look like any other one. DASHIELL HAMMETT: We will look at the women. PICASSO: Each one. [Mocked by Anita Loos.] DAVID GREEN: Each one. [Mocked by Gertrude Atherton.] CHARLIE CHAPLIN: Each one. [Mocked by Lady Diana Grey.] LORD BERNERS: Each one. [Mocked by Daisy Fellowes.] PICASSO (to the men): Each one? DAVID GREEN: One? CHARLIE CHAPLIN: Another one? LORD BERNERS: At which one? [The women all laugh.] ANITA LOOS: As if they did look like them. MEN (overlapping): Yes! [Men speak among themselves for reassurance] DASHIELL HAMMETT: I was saying yes. PICASSO: Yes, I had been to say yes. CHARLIE CHAPLIN: If not no one had not said not LORD BERNERS: Yes, yes yes. [They all look at the women who pause.] 17 GERTRUDE ATHERTON: That's it? DAISY FELLOWES: And so they all began again to look like another one. [The women all take seats around the tablecloth, spread out on the floor. They are frozen, looking in different directions] Each man directs a solo performance outward towards the audience: fancy moves, showing off.] DASHIELL HAMMETT: If I look at you you will not look like me. [Hammett takes a seat at the "table." As he takes a seat he enters the women's tableau, looking at one of them. Each man (except David Green) will follow suit as he takes a seat and joins the tableau.] PICASSO: I said I did not look at two and three. [Picasso takes a seat at the table.] CHARLIE CHAPLIN: Charlie Chaplin looked like me. [Chaplin takes a seat at the table.] BEAT LORD BERNERS: I do not look at me. [Lord Berners takes a seat at the table. David Green is about to deliver his line but loses his nerve; walks off center stage and takes a seat. Dr. Gidon comes in from off stage right into the zone the men have just left. He clears his throat and all the characters look at him and freeze in the second tableau. Meanwhile Mrs. Andrew Greene enters from off stage left and stands behind the table.] DR. GIDON (addressing the table): Where is the man who looks like David Greene? 18 [Characters shift to third tableau, each looking at or conspicuously not at Mrs. Andrew Greene.] DR. GIDON: There is plenty of time. ALL (overlapping, uncomfortable): Is there. DR. GIDON: Yes there is, there is plenty of time. [Characters freeze briefly, then move in the grid to form a vertical line.] Scene II: Money chorus line 6 [Characters continue to hold the vertical line before starting together. With attention to levels, speed, direction, repetition and gesture ("sniffing" and single chorus-line kick), they make geometric shapes - circles, triangles and squares - by either transcribing them on the floor as they mill, or forming stationary shapes with their bodies. Characters fall into character and out of the geometric shapes only to deliver their lines, and rejoin characterless movement once finished.] MRS. ANDREW GREENE: But she had a piece of what she had. And she said she ate it if she did. And if she did she ate it with her mouth. DAVID GREEN: And with it she was welcome here at once. DR. GIDON: There is no use in saying money is not so. It is. The only difference between man and monkey Is what money makes. If there is no money then like anything They eat what they have. DAVID GREEN: But money is not so. DR. GIDON: It is kept. DAVID GREEN: That is what it is. 6 Stein 431-433. 19 DR. GIDON: And nothing is kept except what money is. So you see money is so. [Movement intensifies for an extended interval before lines continue.] MRS ANDREW GREENE: And the one who is like Dashiell Hammett what has he to say about money. DAISY FELLOWES: He says. DASHIELL HAMMETT: Money I have money. LADY DIANA GRAY: He says. DASHIELL HAMMETT: Money when I have no money. GERTRUDE ATHERTON: He says. DASHIELL HAMMETT: When I have no money. ANITA LOOS: He says. DASHIELL HAMMETT: Money yes money. [Extended interval of movement.] DAVID GREEN: And what is the one who is like Picasso what is he to do when he sees money all the way through. PICASSO: He is to do what he does. DAISY FELLOWES: Hold it hoe it. LADY DIANA GREY: Hold it and hold it. GERTRUDE ATHERTON: Have it and not have it. PICASSO: But he knows where money goes And so also as money goes He does not go. . 20 DAVID GREEN: oh no [Movement intensifies for extended interval before lines continue.] [Dr. Gidon, Mrs. Andrew Greene and David Green debate with frenzied intensity.] DR. GIDON: Where is money to go Money can not go and say so. MRS. ANDREW GREENE: Therefore money is always best. DAVID GREEN: And best is better than butter. MRS. ANDREW GREENE: And without money there is no butter. DR. GIDON: And so there is always money. [Extended interval of somewhat calmed movement.] CHARLIE CHAPLIN: The one who looks like Charlie Chaplin arranges neatly that he is not there. LADY DIANA GREY: Where is he. CHARLIE CHAPLIN: He is not there. DAISY FELLOWES: And where is money. CHARLIE CHAPLIN: Money is there. [Extended interval of movement.] LORD BERNERS: The one who is like Lord Berners never arranges that money is money. Why not. ALL THE WOMEN: Because. Of course why not. DR. GIDON: And so they all think, each one who looks like any one that money is money. 21 [Women and David Green arrive in chorus line across centre stage. They deliver lin in spoken song; do a chorus-line kick after their own lines and a sneeze after the others' lines. Men lounge on the ground across the lower stage, looking at the women.] ANITA LOOS: We do not know DAVID GREEN: oh no GERTRUDE ATHERTON: because of know and no. LADY DIANA GREY: No money is not so and so. DAISY FELLOWES: It is easy to see what is seen. LADY DIANA GREY: Money is not seen DAVID GREEN: oh no. And so. GERTRUDE ATHERTON: There is no no in seen. ANITA LOOS: There is N. O. in money. GERTRUDE ATHERTON: There is S.O. in seen. LADY DIANA GREY: There is no so in money. NARRATORS: And so. [Characters all freeze. They move together to join the chorus line, pause and bend forward in the sneezing gesture.] 22 Appendix B: P e r f o r m a n c e Playbill S E L E C T E D SCENES F R O M A PLAY CALLED NOTA N DN O W Gertrude Surfn In typical eomtolaUe gait By Gertrude Stein Characters This staged reading is the result of a workshop, May 17-31, directed by Heather Arvidson, with support and consultation from Adam Frank. Alex Day as a man who looks like Dashiell Hammett Kellen Fo as a man who looks like Picasso Michael Undem as a man who looks like Charlie Chaplin Daniel Bruce as a man who looks like Lord Berners Kevin Spenst as a man who looks like David Green We'd like to thank: Women Colleen Lanki Jenny Craig as a woman who looks like Anita Loos Lindsay Barton as a woman who looks like Gertrude Atherton Wendy Dallion as a woman who looks like Lady Diana Grey Jenny Kassen as a woman who looks like Daisy Fellowes Sid Katz, management and staff at the Chan Centre UBC Dean of Arts UBC Department of English Vancouver Film School Siobhan McCormick as a woman who looks like Mrs. Andrew Greene Olivia Delachanal as a man who looks like Doctor Gidon 23 Works Cited Aronson, Arnold. American Avant-Garde Theatre: A History. New York: Routledge, Stein's avant-garde theater. 2002. Bay-Cheng, Sarah. Mama Dada: Gertrude Routledge, 2004. Bogart, Anne. A Director Prepares: seven essays on art and theatre. New York: New York: Routledge, 2001. - . "Stepping out of Inertia." TDR 21A (1983): 26-28. Bottoms, Stephen. Playing Broadway Underground: Movement. Bowers, Jane Palatini. A Critical History of the 1960s Off-Off- Ann Arbor: U of Michigan P, 2004. "They Watch Me as They Watch This": Gertrude Stein's Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1991. Metadrama. Davy, Kate. Richard Foreman and the Ontological-Hysteric Theatre. Ann Arbor: UMI Research P., 1981. Dixon, Michael and Joel A. Smith., eds. Anne Bogart: Viewpoints. Lyme, NH: Smith and Kraus, 1995. Fuchs, Elinor. Hejinian, Lyn. The Death Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1996. of Character. The Language of Inquiry. Berkeley: U of California P, 2000. Herrington, Joan. "Directing with the Viewpoints." Theatre Topics 10.2 (2000): 155-168. Lampe, Eelka. "From the Battle to the Gift: the Directing of Anne Bogart." TDR 36.2 (1992) 14-47. Puchner, Martin. Stage Fright: Modernism, Anti-Theatricality and Drama. Baltimore: John Hopkins UP, 2002. Robinson, Marc. The Other American Ryan, Betsy Alayne. Gertrude Research P., 1984. Stein's Drama. Theatre Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1994. of the Absolute. Ann Arbor: UMI 24 Stein, Gertrude. "A Play Called Not and Now." Last Operas and Plays. Baltimore: John Hopkins UP, 1995. —. "Byron a Play." Last —. Autobiography Operas and of Alice B. Toklas. Plays. In Selected Writings of Gertrude Stein. Ed. Carl Van Vetchen. New York: Random House, 1990. 3-237. —. Everybody's —. Lectures Autobiography. in America. In Cambridge: Exact Change, 1993. Writings 1932-1946. New York: Library of America, 1998. 191-363. —. The Letters of Gertrude Stein and Thornton Dydo. New Haven: Yale UP, 1996. Wilder. Eds. Edward Burns and Ulla