Faith and a Sense of Truth in a Performer

Constantin Stanislavski

• Publisher: Read & Co. Books
• Print ISBN: 9781447452751
• eBook ISBN: 9781473358386
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Acting & Auditioning

This antiquarian book contains a treatise on the subject of realism in acting, by the inventor of method acting, Constantin Sergeievich Stanislavski. A fascinating and detailed text written by one of the founding fathers of modern acting technique, this book is the perfect guide for the aspiring actor or actress, and constitutes a must-read for anyone with an interest in the subject. Konstantin Sergeievich Stanislavski (1863 - 1938) was a Russian actor and theatre director, famous for his development of the 'Stanislavski method'. Chosen for its immense educational and historical value, this book is being republished now in an affordable, modern, high-quality edition - complete with a new prefatory biography of the author.

FAITH AND A SENSE OF TRUTH

FAITH AND A SENSE OF TRUTH’ was inscribed on a large placard on the wall at school today.

Before our work began we were up on the stage, engaged in one of our periodic searches for Maria’s lost purse. Suddenly we heard the voice of the Director who, without our knowing it, had been watching us from the orchestra.

‘What an excellent frame, for anything you want to present, is provided by the stage and the footlights,’ said he. ‘You were entirely sincere in what you were doing. There was a sense of truthfulness about it all, and a feeling of believing in all physical objectives which you set yourselves. They were well defined and clear, and your attention was sharply concentrated. All these necessary elements were operating properly and harmoniously to create—can we say art? No! That was not art. It was actuality. Therefore repeat what you have just been doing.’

We put the purse back where it had been and we began to hunt it. Only this time we did not have to search because the object had already been found once. As a result we accomplished nothing.

‘No. I saw neither objectives, activity nor truth, in what you did,’ was Tortsov’s criticism. ‘And why? If what you were doing the first time was actual fact, why were you not able to repeat it? One might suppose that to do that much you would not need to be an actor, but just an ordinary human being.’

We tried to explain to Tortsov that the first time it was necessary to find the lost purse, whereas the second time we knew there was no need for it. As a result we had reality at first and a false imitation of it the second time.

‘Well then, go ahead and play the scene with truth instead of falseness,’ he suggested.

We objected, and said it was not as simple as all that. We insisted that we should prepare, rehearse, live the scene. . . .

‘Live it?’ the Director exclaimed. ‘But you just did live it!’

Step by step, with the aid of questions and explanation, Tortsov led us to the conclusion that there are two kinds of truth and sense of belief in what you are doing. First, there is the one that is created automatically and on the plane of actual fact (as in the case of our search for Maloletkova’s purse when Tortsov first watched us), and second, there is the scenic type, which is equally truthful but which originates on the plane of imaginative and artistic fiction.

‘To achieve this latter sense of truth, and to reproduce it in the scene of searching for the purse, you must use a lever to lift you on to the plane of imaginary life,’ the Director explained. There you will prepare a fiction, analogous to what you have just done in reality. Properly envisaged “given circumstances” will help you to feel and to create a scenic truth in which you can believe while you are on the stage. Consequently, in ordinary life, truth is what really exists, what a person really knows. Whereas on the stage it consists of something that is not actually in existence but which could happen.

‘Excuse me,’ argued Grisha, ‘but I don’t see how there can be any question of truth in the theatre since everything about it is fictitious, beginning with the very plays of Shakespeare and ending with the papier mâché dagger with which Othello stabs himself.’

‘Do not worry too much about that dagger being made of cardboard instead of steel,’ said Tortsov, in a conciliatory tone. ‘You have a perfect right to call it an impostor. But if you go beyond that; and brand all art as a lie, and all life in the theatre as unworthy of faith, then you will have to change your point of view. What counts in the theatre is not the material out of which Othello’s dagger is made, be it steel or cardboard, but che inner feeling of the actor who can justify his suicide. What is important is how the actor, a human being, would have acted if the circumstances and conditions which surrounded Othello were real and the dagger with which he stabbed himself were metal.

‘Of significance to us is: the reality of the inner life of a human spirit in a part and a belief in that reality. We are not concerned with the actual naturalistic existence of what surrounds us on the stage, the reality of the material world! This is of use to us only in so far as it supplies a general background for our feelings.

‘What we mean by truth in the theatre is the scenic truth which an actor must make use of in his moments of creativeness. Try always to begin by working from the inside, both on the factual and imaginary parts of a play and its setting. Put life into all the imagined circumstances and actions until you have completely satisfied your sense of truth, and until you have awakened a sense of faith in the reality of your sensations. This process is what we call justification of a part.’

As I wished to be absolutely sure of his meaning, I asked Tortsov to sum up in a few words what he had said. His answer was:

‘Truth on the stage is whatever we can believe in with sincerity, whether in ourselves or in our colleagues. Truth cannot be separated from belief, nor belief from truth. They cannot exist without each other and without both of them it is impossible to live your part, or to create anything. Everything that happens on the stage must be convincing to the actor himself, to his associates and to the spectators. It must inspire belief in the possibility, in real life, of emotions analogous to those being experienced on the stage by the actor. Each and every moment must be saturated with a belief in the truthfulness of the emotion felt, and in the action carried out, by the actor.’

The Director began our lesson today by saying: ‘I have explained to you, in general terms, the part that truth plays in the creative process. Let us now talk about its opposite.

‘A sense of truth contains within itself a sense of what is untrue as well. You must have both. But it will be in varying proportions. Some have, let us say, seventy-five per cent. sense of truth, and only twenty-five per cent. of sense of falseness; or these proportions reversed; or fifty per cent. of each. Are you surprised that I differentiate and contrast these two senses? This is why I do it,’ he added, and then, turning to Nicholas, he said:

‘There are actors who, like you, are so strict with themselves in adhering to truth that they often carry that attitude, without being conscious of it, to extremes that amount to falseness. You should not exaggerate your preference for truth and your abhorrence of lies, because it tends to make you overplay truth for its own sake, and that, in itself, is the worst of lies. Therefore try to be cool and impartial. You need truth, in the theatre, to the extent to wh...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Faith and a Sense of Truth