The Alexander Technique and the Actor

The following article,
describes their work with the Alexander Technique in
relation to acting training. Saura teaches Alexander
Technique for actors at the University of North Carolina
at Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and the Trinity Rep
Conservatory in Providence, Rhode Island. Meade is on the
faculty of the Studio Theatre Acting Conservatory in
Washington, D.C., and is a recent recipient of the
prestigious Helen Hayes Theatre Award. The article is
designed as an introduction to the Alexander Technique
for the acting teacher and student.

If a series of case studies were published in relation to
the Alexander Technique, mine would be defined as
“classic.” After being a dancer for 10 years, I
sustained a knee injury. While waiting to heal, I
transferred my love for artistic expression to the
theater. The year was 1962, and I was appearing in my
first play, Chekhov’s “The Seagull.”

I wanted so badly to be seen as a truthful and sincere
actor. I can still recall my desperate feelings of
frustration in the scene where Masha confesses her love
for Constantin. I was unable to make any emotional
connection to my lines. Thirty-five years later, I can
still visualize and sense that moment so clearly. But,
there is a difference. After studying the Alexander
Technique for 25 years, I can now describe this
experience as a classic example of “downward
pull.” My neck muscles were overly constricted,
causing my head to roll back and press down on, and
shorten my spine. I was literally choking myself while
trying to contact some shred of emotional responsiveness.
I understand totally why I was unable to respond to
internal or external stimuli. My instrument was so
restricted that the flow of rhythmic impulse, known as
performance, was significantly distorted and disrupted.

Today, when I work with actors, I relate this experience
as a cautionary tale, and as an example of why a well
balanced, finely-tuned instrument is so crucial for an
artistically successful performance. Fortunately, I can
also show them immediate and excellent examples of
contemporary actors speaking about their process, coupled
with film clips from their movies.

Over the past three years, the Bravo Television Network
has presented a series of interviews with prominent
actors connected with the Actors Studio in New York.
Watching fine actors such as Dennis Hopper, Sally Field,
Shelley Winters, Angelica Huston, Paul Newman, and Tommy
Lee Jones speak of their careers and approaches to acting
is a rare privilege. Each of these actors reveals a
finely calibrated instrument with a hair-trigger
readiness to respond to a stimulus. Each creates a
palpable sense of dangerous excitement, certainly sexual,
that is simultaneously under their complete control. We
watch them talk in these interviews and perform in their
films, experiencing a sense of keen anticipation as we
wait for their next move or response. The pleasure of
watching them arises in not knowing what they will do
next. We know that whatever they do will be spontaneous,
yet totally in keeping with the character they have
developed. Their commitment is so complete and their
instrument so sensitive and well-trained, that you cannot
take your eyes from them. You become fascinated by trying
to figure them out. The artistry of their work lies in
their ability to access and shape a variety of
experiences for the viewers’ delight.

Interfering
with the Primary Control

It is a challenge for students to work side by side with
actors who have such ”finely calibrated
instruments.” Students working in university
repertory companies are asked to find acting resources
which are often beyond their experience. They are asked
to do this in a short amount of time. Too often their
response is not from experienced artistry but from fear,
and because of that, inappropriate effort. The appearance
of these “unduly excited fear reflexes” is, as
Meade described, overall constriction and tightness in
the throat and neck, as well as a lack of real and useful
contact with the environment. That is, the students
interfere with their “primary control.” F.M.
Alexander discovered the importance of the primary
control, which, defined by Frank Pierce Jones, is
“that a dynamic relationship of the head and the
neck promotes maximal lengthening of the body and
facilitates movement throughout the body.” It is the
work of the Alexander teacher to teach the student to
stop interfering with their primary control.

Over the years I have had the opportunity to view
performances of various repertory companies. At times I
found myself distracted by the degrees of difference in
artistic ease between the professional actors and the
student actors. The held energy with which the less
experienced students performed visibly contrasted with
the ease of the professional actors’ performances. As a
teacher of the Alexander Technique, I looked forward to
the time when student actors would have the opportunity
to begin their Alexander studies.

Student
Actors and the Alexander Technique

Eric, Daniel and Rachel were student actors who had the
opportunity to study the Alexander Technique as part of
their MFA curriculum.

Eric’s military background was apparent in his
“use.” His head was pulled back, his neck
muscles were shortened and his upper body strength was
over-emphasized. He appeared energetically
over-protected. His weight training further shortened his
stature. This pulled his shoulders forward, taking the
weight of his head back and down on his neck, which then
pressed forward on his vocal apparatus. After seeing
photos of himself, Eric became motivated to take charge
of his use.

This Alexander class viewed the Bravo interview with
Christopher Reeve that included an excerpt in which Clark
Kent transforms into Superman. Reeve, having studied the
Alexander Technique, skillfully uses his downward pull to
drop into Clark Kent and releases out of his habit to
transform himself into Superman. Through Reeve’s example,
Eric was inspired to use Alexander’s principles to guide
the performance of his one-person final project.
Inhibiting his downward habits, including a habitual
pattern of sitting in his hips that placed pressure on
his larynx, he became fuller in stature and freer in
sound.

Daniel had a dance background, yet lacked spontaneity. He
would hold himself up, rarely allowing the natural
support from his reflexes. When asked where his center of
gravity was, Daniel would point to his chest, which is
called the “center of levity” in dance
training. Finding support from one’s center of levity is
not conducive to stability nor strength, so when Daniel
brought his thinking to his chest he was easily taken off
balance. As he brought his thinking to his pelvis he was
able to remain centered and stable on his feet when
challenged.

Daniel’s ability to change his thinking through the
Alexander Technique shifted his position-oriented use to
a more flexible and centrally available one, allowing
more of his whole expressive self to be present for his
acting.

Rachel was attempting to stop upstaging herself with her
hands, which she used when the words were slow in coming
and when she lost trust in herself, and thus the primary
control. Employing the Alexander Technique, Rachel
improved her coordination. This process of gaining
awareness, using inhibition and direction allowed her the
time needed to reduce unnecessary hand gestures.

Rachel’s access to her inner life was a valuable resource
for the building of character. Without interfering with
her inner connection, she was able to stay in the moment,
enlivened and connected, and more compelling on stage.

Greater
Ease Through Redirection

These students learned that by finding greater ease
through redirection, they can grow in stature, poise and
the ability to be spontaneous in their performances.
Their voices fill the theater with increased strength and
enhanced resonance. The overall effect on the repertory
company is that of more evenly balanced performances by
the students, a more effective ensemble between student
actors and professionals, and heightened enjoyment for
the audience.

At the core of an actor’s training is the process of
learning to respond truthfully in the moment to imaginary
circumstances. Constriction of the body in the form of
fear and performance anxiety causes a hyper-responsive
nervous system over-contracted muscles and an unbalanced
skeletal system. As a result, timing becomes erratic,
lines and actions are anticipated, and emotional
responses become forced or faked. The Alexander Technique
can serve as a powerful catalyst for opening the actor’s
instrument to the deepest resources of available
responses in the moment of performance. The results are a
blend of vulnerability and absolute commitment that can
create riveting moments in the theater.

The Alexander Technique offers the actor a very specific
psychophysical process, a means of guiding a performance
toward a deep sense of attunement with each moment as it
unfolds. The study of the Alexander Technique is a
gradual, in-depth process of re-education, requiring time
and repetition. As the actor rebuilds a more reliable
kinesthetic feedback system, he or she grows to be a more
consistent, mature and dynamic performer, vividly
contributing to the magic of the overall theatrical
event.

***

This
article is reproduced with the kind permission of The
Village Green, an online community where you can learn
about the Alexander Technique, movement and spirit
workshops in the Washington, D.C. area

Click here to visit the Village Green
Website

To learn
more about the Alexander Technique, click here:

The Complete Guide to the Alexander
Technique