Here is a little bit on my process of how I approach characters, using my portrayal of Ruth Hoch in Lanford Wilson's play Book of Days as an example.
Set in a small Midwestern town, Book of Days follows the character Ruth Hoch as she prepares for the role of St. Joan; her own journey of building the character turns her into her own version of St. Joan, hearing voices and experiencing hallucinations as she becomes obsessed with the death of her close friend. Deemed an accident, Ruth is convinced that he was, in fact, murdered, and as she delves deeper into the character of Joan, she becomes more fanatical and fixated over the investigation. Even though Ruth experiences a breakdown of mental faculties, her perseverance and passion needed to be as strong and as diligent as Joan’s; Joan was able to command a whole army of men despite the questioning of her mental wellbeing, and I knew that the Ruth I created needed to have that same strength, determination, and unity of mind, even during such a dramatic shift in personality and psychological health. To create a schizophrenic, fragmented character and show the breakdown of this woman’s mind while still retaining a sense of specificity and unity, I decided that the way to build this character was to break it down—to, perhaps ironically, find a union of mind, body, and voice through deconstruction. Lanford Wilson uses the theme of tornadoes throughout his play, a force that breaks down and destroys everything in its path. I wanted Ruth’s characters to do that to the town and to her personal life in her mission to unearth the truth, in conjunction with the destruction of her mind and her sanity. In order to inhabit the abandoned nature of Ruth, I deconstructed and then unified the character through script analysis, research focused mainly on historical and religious aspects of the play, characterization, and spontaneity—specifically, psychological gesture; all of this preparation enabled me to show the schizophrenic and fragmented inner life of Ruth, while portraying a unified and collected personae.
Deconstructing the script, followed by the unifying application of research, enabled me to begin laying the foundation for my character and start tracking her mental transformation from Ruth to Joan. Script analysis is where I always begin in any production; I break down the script into beats and units based off of my character’s goals and verbs and on the arc of the play. I carefully map out my character’s tactics, motivations, and psychological journey through each scene, and constantly ask myself why my character does a certain thing or says a certain line. I analyze my character’s relationship to other characters as well as their relationship to the whole journey of the show; why is she necessary to the playwright? What role does she fulfill? I also record all of my subtext, or the real meanings and thoughts under each line, and after fleshing out the play, I create a full character biography.
It was this breakdown of the script that informed me as to how to go about creating the deconstructed mind of Ruth, specifically in terms of her speech patterns. I began by paying close attention to how her speech changed through the course of the show. Lanford Wilson’s writing is, by nature, nuanced and discreet, so I knew that her speech was not going to have a dramatic shift. Instead, I focused on the use of punctuation and sentence structure. I wanted my transformation from Ruth to Joan, like Wilson’s writing, to be nuanced and specific—I did not want the audience to be beaten over the head with the notion of deconstruction, but I wanted them to receive just a hint of the fragmentation so that there would be a trigger within their own thoughts of the idea of a mind beginning to disintegrate. I noticed that the punctuation and structure of my lines changed as the plot thickened. I utilized this change in punctuation to show a breakdown of language for Ruth; with a change in punctuation, came a change in the rhythm of my speech, especially during emotional moments for the character. I took advantage of this change in rhythm and pace to show the unraveling of Ruth’s mind as she became more like Joan and began to take on a speech pattern that was different than the one she possessed in the beginning of the play. This only furthered the religious undertones because the clipped punctuation and breakdown of speech began to mirror an almost religious-like chant or trance.
Research, like script analysis, is important in any character creation. I started by reading the play that Ruth is rehearsing for in Book of Days, which was George Bernard Shaw’s St. Joan. I then reread Book of Days within the lens of St. Joan and drew parallels between relationships, characters, plot, and action. My aim is to always reflect the writer’s intention, so the more information I know about the playwright and the other plays he draws inspiration from—St Joan in this scenario—the more adept I will be to do my job. I also read a book containing essays written by other actresses who had portrayed St. Joan; this was incredibly helpful because not only did it give me insight as to how they created this iconic character, it informed me as to how their own transformation into Joan affected them psychologically.
In the preparation for all my roles, I research their town, profession, heritage, religion—basically anything that could be helpful down the road. I strive to create a life that is vivid and rich, so that my portrayal will reflect that specificity. For Book of Days, a play that has strong religious themes at its core, I researched the character of Ruth in the Bible and allowed her personae and role to dictate the shades and nuances I should highlight. I compare my script analysis and research to a detective investigating a case—it is all about reading between the lines, finding clues, experimenting with theories, and, most importantly, trusting your instincts.
After the foundation had been set through script analysis and research, I was better equipped with the necessary research to begin my work on the characterization and physicality of Ruth—once again, I utilized notions of deconstruction and fragmentation within the body to parallel a fragmentation within the psychology of the character and, furthermore, to show a unified and seamless transition from Ruth to Joan. I started by looking at numerous paintings of Joan of Arc and other saints (such as the one in this post). I looked for conventions and traits that are recognized as being saint-like or religious, and I aimed to incorporate these gestures and stances throughout the course of the play, with a few existing naturally in Ruth’s gestures and physicality, and additional gestures becoming prominent as she became progressively more like Joan. I wanted the audience to realize that Ruth always had the potential to be like St. Joan, but that the rehearsal process paired with the death of her close friend highlighted and exaggerated these inherent features she possessed. For example, as she begins to plead with the local authorities to investigate the death of her friend, her pleading hands become more prayer-like, and at the end of the play when her life has completely unraveled and she is left only in a spotlight mourning her losses, I chose to clutch myself in a protective and grief-stricken manner by crossing my arms over my chest, resembling a martyr. By deconstructing her previous gesturial habits and then unifying her physicality with saint-like conventions, I once again tried to hint to the audience a woman spiraling out of control, yet gaining in strength and will.
I also broke down her physicality by fragmenting the amount of space Ruth inhabited. In the beginning of the play, I chose to make most of her physical body small, closed off, not demanding much space or attention. For example, while sitting, Ruth always sits with her legs or ankles crossed, a trait of femininity. As she grows in confidence and perseverance, I allowed her to spread out, demanding more space and recognition—after chopping off her hair like St. Joan, I decided that Ruth would begin to sit more like a man, with a wider stance and uncrossed legs. I further fragmented her body by giving attention to specific areas where her weight would be held. To do this, I took classes in Ruth’s profession and in her hobbies, including classes in riflery. I noticed that, as a bookkeeper, she would probably have tired hands and lower-back, but as someone who hunted and was used to holding a gun, she would carry a strong upper back and shoulders. As she begins to transition into Joan, I made decisions on her body carriage based on her emotional state. In times when she was strong and determined, I wanted her to carry herself as if she was wearing armor; in contrast, when she had been beaten down emotionally, I wanted her body to resemble a body that had just come out of battle. This was not a distant stretch from what was taking place within the life of Ruth, because she would have been wearing armor every night during the rehearsals and running of St. Joan, and the battle that her body would have fought would parallel the battle that was taking place within her psyche.
Characterization and physicality—while vital in bringing about the sense of unity within the character—can lead to acting that is stiff and too technical; therefore, at the end of the rehearsal process, when I am becoming more comfortable in lines and blocking, I focus on spontaneity and a full emotional life, specifically through the use of Michael Chekhov’s psychological gesture. In my rehearsal process, I do many things to try and bring about a full emotional life that is personal to me: I listen to music that that character would listen to, I make character journals, I discover the way they sign their name, I practice with substitution and emotional recall, I make photograph collages, I improvise, I incorporate psychological gesture, the list goes on. Because Book of Days was such an emotional play that required me to react with specific emotions of grief every night, I relied heavily on psychological gesture. Through pairing a specific physical gesture with a psychological trigger, I was able to, every night, do a specific gesture at a specific moment that would then trigger a specific emotional response. This was, for the character of Ruth, the pinnacle of emotional fragmentation that was unified through a physical life. It became the unity I was striving for in mind, body, and voice.
