Once: The Secret to Better Theatre Rehearsal Communication

Communication is the key. Whether we are creating, inspiring, or explaining, it sits at the heart of the collective construction we do in the studio. I have had victories and disasters while trying to create shared experiences with clear, unified direction.

If I’m rehearsing with more than a handful of people, I try to sit everyone down for a quick, open chat about “What’s new and interesting?” Kids with stories raise their hands and tell us about passing their driving tests, getting summer jobs, or spending a recent day at the beach. I’ll never forget the day a young man revealed he had webbed toes—or the day the cast collectively informed me that my Velcro tennis shoes were the furthest thing from stylish. I didn’t reveal that I bought 2 pair.

You may say that kind of “extra time” doesn’t exist, but I would encourage you to try this technique. It creates a bond among the performers, and in the end, it saves time. The most important stories get told ONCE to the whole group, instead of being repeated to small pockets of people while you are trying to hold the room’s attention and stage the show.

Then it is time to get the show on its feet.

Here is an important lesson I’ve had to learn and remind myself of over the years.

Give GOOD information ONCE. 

Once information that is incorrect is heard, it takes twice as long to unhear it. Then you need another pass to share the latest version. Even if you make the change quickly, there is no guarantee the message was received. Once the thought is out there, you don’t know who has escaped earshot of the correction.

Being prepared is the key to NOT sharing several versions of the work you hope to create. When I’m filling in the details of entrances and exits, I check and recheck the plan before I speak or point. If there is a new combination to share and I have even a moment of doubt about the counts or which foot to start with, I often say, “Everyone close your eyes.” I review the steps for myself very quickly, then have them watch only when I know the information is true. We all have those quick studies who are already committing the steps to memory, even while you are reviewing them for yourself at half-energy. Save yourself the confusion.

Don’t SHOW, ‘til you KNOW.

The first hurdle—sharing or showing the initial information—is complete. The second hurdle, the perfecting phase, has its own pitfalls. In staging production numbers, you might start on SR sharing information and clarification. As you travel to center, you answer another question and clarify another piece of it. By doing so, you have actually changed it. By the time you reach SL, that interpretation has morphed into another change. In your haste, you may not realize you have just planted the seed for a future argument.

Cut to >>>> performers in a rehearsal room, trying to perfect the steps they learned that day. The cleaning session turns into a dance challenge because each person knows their information came directly from ME. It must be correct. Yikes!

BLAME ASSESSMENT among performers should always be downplayed. Disagreements between A-type personalities can escalate quickly. That’s why I make it a point to explain, often, that the fast exchange of information can include confusion from ME, that two things can be true at once, and that the confusion is rarely the performers’ fault. I’m happy to take the blame.

And the assessment is not always finger-pointing. When we are solving train wrecks in the staging, someone will often step forward and explain how they caused the problem. At that moment, I usually call to the stage manager and sarcastically say, “Put that in the notes. It was her fault.” Yes, I appreciate the information and want to talk through solutions for everyone, but the word “fault” is tricky. If it didn’t work, let’s try again or try something different.

It may sound like I’m saying you should be decisive to the point of being inflexible. I’m NOT! Weigh each change against the outcome you want, and measure the trouble and time it will take to get there. I make the change more often than not. When I do, the request always begins with a big declaration, echoed by a war cry from the cast. I announce, “This is a change,” and the cast replies with gusto, “THIS IS A CHANGE.” It shifts the energy in the room and gets everyone’s attention so they can hear that something new is happening to the work they THINK they already mastered.

Now it is Review Day. The collective memory of a cast can sour the start of a rehearsal. If you are like me, it is common to watch a first pass of reviewed material that somehow lacks the clarity and energy of the earlier rehearsal. In my head, I think, “Didn’t we already rehearse this?” Or, “Did he miss that rehearsal?” Or, “That’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back!” In real time, though, I see no reason to waste time naming every detail of the underwhelming work. I usually say, “Let’s pretend I didn’t see that,” and, “Let’s go again.” It saves time and emotion by avoiding a full critique of the scene they just attempted. Even more important, it keeps actors focused on the positive work they have already achieved and gives very little energy to defending the mistakes in the most recent hiccup. Seldom does a cast disappoint. They rally and bring forth better work than ever before.

As rehearsals in the studio wrap up and you move into the theater, you hope the communication up to this point has built shared confidence in the work. You will never have as much control, or as much access to the performers, as you do before opening night approaches. The methods for communication in the theater are a discussion for another day...