"With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come." --Merchant of Venice 1.1., William Shakespeare 

This may be the only week in my entire life during which I was sick (don't worry Mom, just a cold), sleep deprived, and dressed in all black but completely and utterly happy.  Let me explain:

I just finished my first week of LAMDA classes.  My morning starts at 6:45am when I grasp around on the floor next to my bed for my iPhone that is buzzing and jumping energetically, accidentally picking up my chunky rental phone, which resembles the indestructible but aesthetically unfortunate phone I owned eight years ago.  I shower, eat, pack my lunch, gather my books, check for my tube card, and head towards the elevator in order to catch the 7:55 shuttle that takes residents of the Nido apartment to the two closest tube stops, Ladbroke Grove and Notting Hill Gate.  I'm dressed in an actor's "blacks," an ensemble of black pants, a shirt, and white shoes in order to create a feeling of neutrality in the classroom and discourage clothing distractions during class.  The shuttle has 16 available seats.  The bad part: there are 22 LAMDA students staying at the apartment.  Even though I'm not a math kid, even I know that I need to be downstairs in the lobby at least 10 minutes before the shuttle arrives to get a seat on the shuttle and not be one of the 6 who must find another form of transportation to school.  By 8:25 we've made it to school and get to hang out before class starts PROMPTLY at 9 (If you're late, they hate you.  Pretty simple).  In LAMDA's common room there aren't food machines, but instead tea machines.  Plug in 36 pence and within 2 minutes you have yourself a piping hot cup of green tea!

LAMDA (beautiful, huh?)

At 9 am I start off my first class in a small six-person group.  We have these small groups for classes that require a lot of individual work, like singing and Alexander technique (a technique that uses relaxation and cleansing of tension in the body to produce better vocal sound).  The first three classes of the day last an hour and 15 minutes, so coming from a high school where each of my classes lasted 45 minutes, I've had to work to expand my attention span. We then have 15 minutes to make our way to the next class, during which time you can eat your snack, grab another tea or coffee from the machine, or socialize quickly in the common room some more.  The next class is slightly larger, this time with 12 students, and is either acting, improv, historical dance, physical theater, clowning, pure voice, or applied voice to text.  I especially enjoyed the physical theater class this week; this class gets a lot of attention at LAMDA since the Academy focuses on producing actors who produce emotion and impulses from their bodies first and then their minds, instead of producing actors who are stuck in their heads and always thinking about what they should be doing on stage.

I've always appreciated having a long, Greek last name: it tends to be a good conversation starter, provided some ethnic zest to a typical Southern high school, and confuses people when I then tell them I'm Jewish.  Having said that, the Greek last name ended up being an AMAZING boon during the physical theater class since our 26-year-old teacher could easily have played the extremely attractive Greek man in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants movie.  Yorgos is from Athens, has eyes that are almost as blue as the famous Greek ocean waters, and has an accent with a romantic flare that resembles French.  When he saw my last name on the attendance sheet he began to ask me about my Greek heritage and my last name and all of that (all the other girls were quite jealous).  But, onto the actual work of the class: Yorgos led us through an exercise called the "Pleasure Exercise" where you lie on the ground, in your own space, and focus on movements that make your body feel good.  For instance, we first focused on our pelvis and our legs.  He encouraged us to breathe fully, do movements that weren't symmetrical, and block any distractions out of our focus (like what other people were doing, what we looked like).  It was the first time that I've been completely unaware of what I was doing with my body, what I looked like, who was looking at me...I've never been so content with freedom and obliviousness before.  At first, I was flat on my back, and stuck my leg straight out and then wiggled each toe, then the ankle.  Then I brought the second leg up and kicked the air quickly with my feet, doing whatever impulse came to my body.  We did this for probably 20 minutes, moving the focus up to our arms and chest, moving slowly and thoughtfully and then rapidly changing into quick and tiny movement, and then sometimes even just sitting in complete stillness.       

Then, the real fun came.

Yorgos blasted music.  Our bodies had already adjusted to the freedom of doing whatever made them happy, and the music was the catalyst for even more movement.  At first, the music was something you'd jump up and down to at a concert, fast and furious, full of energy.  Almost like a chord was connected between our bodies and the stereo, my body head couldn't help but beat up and down to the rhythm, and my legs bounced up and down, and then suddenly I wasn't sitting, but I was stretched across the top off the piano that was in the room, tapping my fingers to the sound of the song.  There were no boundaries, it seemed.  Then the music changed: one of those songs you'd hear during a sad scene in a movie.  Slow notes on a piano, where you could almost imagine the pianist with tears down their face.  Suddenly my body didn't move in jerks and bounces, but in streaks and graceful circles.  At one point I was just lying down on the floor with my eyes shut, with my right arm making strokes in the air above my face.  When we finished, Yorgos simply said, with his exotic accent, "Stay as long as you want.  I invite you to stay this open and relaxed throughout the day.  I'll see you next week."  And just walked out.  If he does this everyday, he must be the most relaxed man on the planet.  I stayed lying on the floor for the next five minutes, unaware of my hungry stomach, or the fact that my hair was probably not as straight as when I left the flat, or that the common room would be crowded for lunch if I didn't leave right then.  I didn't get up, I just stayed there, perplexed and satisfied by this simultaneous calmness and energy in my body.  Upon talking to people in the common room during lunch, I noticed my voice was clearer and lower, almost as if the dancing had stripped the tension from all parts of my body, even my voice and mind.  Kudos, Yorgos.

After the hour lunch break, the 34 semester students are once again split up into smaller groups, each with a different director, this time with approximately 12 in each group.  These are our scene study groups in which we analyze scenes from Shakespeare's romance plays and work on them purely for the benefit of our own experience for three hours a day.  We don't perform these scenes for anybody outside of class, which means we can spend as much time on one topic or objective as we want.  For instance, my director Dominic has focused this past week on making my group into a true ensemble.  Solidifying trust and communication between all 12 of us, when we go to act we will feel comfortable taking risks with each other.  His catch phrase is "stay here with us," which means that we need to be open to making honest contact with each other, and experiencing every moment with the group.  Often he'll give us impossible tasks to overcome together:

"As a group, walk, then run, then sprint in the space and work your way up to your fastest speed.  When you collectively think you've reached your maximum speed, stop immediately as a unit.  Then come stand in a circle with your backs to each other, and clap at the same time."

The hard part: you cannot speak during any of this.  You must achieve these tasks by maintaining constant communication with your peers, always making eye contact, and being aware of others' body language.  If I were to look at the ground (so many of us are unaware of this habit) or space out for a moment, I may miss the key to stopping at the same time as the others.  When you think about it, this tasks requires that you must be equal in the amount of presence and attention that you give to and receive from the group.  I must give my openness and communication, making sure to stay present and in the moment, but I must also be open to receiving the unspoken communication from others.  Acting isn't just about memorizing lines or projecting the words to the audience, it's about being a better human being.  It's about always listening to others in an honest way.

I'll try to focus on one class each week, and go into detail on something that really changed how I think about acting.  But trust me, every teacher at LAMDA is a genius, every student is so dedicated, and every class I come out more in tune with my body, mind, and heart than when I walked into the room.  

"He fell down in the marketplace, and foamed at mouth, and was speechless." --Julius Caesar 1.2.250, William Shakespeare

I wasn't exactly "foaming at mouth" in the Portobello Market on Saturday afternoon, but it was something close to an avid shopper's most excited face.  It was a testament to my self-control as I pinned my elbows to my hips and kept my fingers glued to my legs, making sure I didn't touch all the bobbles, clothing, and jewelry in the wide and expansive marketplace.  This well-known splendor occurs every Saturday, providing local vendors and artisans with the chance to show off their goods and talents yet another day a week!  The range of cultural food, set up in tents with big blown-up pictures of their dishes, could be witnessed simply by trusting your facial structure with the two funny holes.  Suddenly the nose became the most important feature known to man as the smells of Indian, Lebanese, British, French, and Eastern European cuisine wafted through the damp air (it rains everyday, literally).  I settled for the Indian food and was handed an aluminum tin filled to the brim with rice, salad, and lamb curry. NOM NOM (For all who are not aware and have not yet adopted this important phrase into their vocabulary, nom nom is synonymous with DELICIOUS).  

Moments before arriving at the marketplace, Sarah, Victoria, Maggie and I were told that the party we had been invited to for that night was themed "monochrome"; the hosts were hoping that the guests would dress in one solid color (and preferably not every actor's go-to color, black.  For the record, almost everyone wore all black to the party).  About half the marketplace is dedicated to vintage clothing, so we went trooping through the maze of racks of tacky fur coats, military jackets, hats meant for attending horse races with the Queen, and touristy sweatshirts.  Alas, London only has patterned and multi-colored clothing.  So while the monochrome clothing mission failed, we still witnessed some of the most outrageous clothing choices and fashion "experiences" vicariously through the worn pieces of cloth.    

                 

"Lord, we know what we are but not what we may be." --Hamlet 4.5.43, William Shakespeare 

I sure hope Shakespeare was right on this one, because I know I'm an actress, but right now I don't know what else I might become during my study at LAMDA.  Yesterday, the 32 students of the single semester course were introduced to three other LAMDA faculty members who will facilitate our growth in other disciplines that are just as important as pure acting training in a successful career.

1. Singing.  Our first warning came as I bit of a surprise to my ears, "'Ello everyone!  I'm Scottish, so sometime during the course you will have trouble understanding my accent."  I hate to admit it, but he was kind of right.  I felt as though I had to physically perk up my ears to grab everyone word his accent flung at us, but by the end of his personal background introduction, I was up to 95% hearing clarity. This urban-fashioned, casually mannered man was going to be at the front of our singing instruction for the duration of the course, with our personal lessons being conducted by two other singing teachers.  As we went around the room explaining our various degrees of experience and training, it became apparent how even the most seemingly confident of people were terrified about opening their mouth and croaking out a note and how many others claimed to be tone deaf.  When he was 13, his mother told him he should never sing because he sounded awful. Our teacher has been in several West End musicals and is a professionally and classically trained voice instructor.  Now, there's a man who overcame!

2. Movement.  Before we realized, she was ordering someone into the center of the circle to do 10 push-ups.   Stage directions: Enter movement teacher and fitness fanatic.  Handed the task to teach 32 actors stage combat, clowning, dancing (tap, modern, jazz, historical) and how to connect their minds and voices with their physical being, our movement teacher wasn't wasting a second. We played a fast paced game that engaged all of us into a big circle, and included different hand signals that went with vocal cues, and the goal was...to not mess up.  If you should pair up a vocal cue with the wrong hand signal--10 PUSH UPS!!!  If you should hesitate even the slightest---10 SIT UPS.  If you made a funny face--10 MORE PUSH UPS! (Just kidding, it wasn't that intense.)  Needless to say, I shall be moving quite a bit in her class.

3. Voice.  Stage directions: Enter classiest British man known to human kind. But really, if Britain had a version of What Not To Wear, he'd be the host.  He peered at us through his tortoise-shell rimmed glasses and adjusted the neck of his cashmere sweater a little to the left.  This man, so poignantly dressed, was also going to make sure we talked and articulated ourselves with the same degree of perfection as his attire.  First he would work with us on RP, or Received Pronunciation, the high-class pronunciation of old time BBC newscasters, politicians, and modern Shakespearean actors.  As a Southerner, I'll definitely be getting some extra help with the accent, since out of all the Americans, my basic accent was the farthest away from RP.  He'll also assist us with breathing, getting rid of tension (that gets in the way of producing a pure vocal sound), speed, and enunciation.

Below, an example (from a feisty comedian type) of Received Pronunciation:

"This above all: to thine own self be true."  --Hamlet 1.3, William Shakespeare

In my theater class today, we were supposed to be true to the feelings and movement of seaweed and a current.  If you're an aspiring actor or just someone who fancies experimentation, feel free to repeat this acting exercise once you've read the blog. 

Goal: relaxation, no active thinking, freedom of movement, imagination

Time: 10 minutes (5 minutes each)

Equipment: 2 people who are willing to ditch their hectic human lives for 10 minutes and take on the persona of (literally go-with-the-flow) sea organisms.    

I stood with my eyes closed in the middle of the room that used to be the practice floor for dancers of the Royal Ballet; no tutu, no shoes, and certainly no neat bun (have you seen these untamable curls?). Through my feet extended the wiry roots of a seaweed, my body was the bright green, flexible algae. With my eyes shut, it was imperative to the success of the exercise that I trust that my partner Sarah was in fact doing her part of the job: she was the ocean's current, sometimes calmly ebbing and sometimes rushing by me.  With her arms and hands determining the current's strength and speed, she touched me, brushed me, pushed me.  My task:  as honestly as possible, without making an active decision how to move, I was to react to the giving and taking of the current.  At times my shoulders would sway back and forth, adjusting to Sarah's nudge to my upper back.  Or perhaps my knees would quiver side to side when Sarah ran her fingers without a break across the backs of my knees.  My arms flopped and my entire body swayed gently in between Sarah's actions as I felt the roots of the seaweed extend through my hips, knees, ankles, and feet down through the floor boards.    

It's harder to be an honest seaweed (incapable of moving on its own, thinking on its own, making decisions on its own) than one would think.  We live in a world that is so dependent on active thought, from middle school we're taught to be thinking one step ahead, always brainstorming an idea.  This exercise, introduced to the western world by a Japanese acting master, requires us to turn off that switch that makes life hectic and complicated and embrace a quasi-improvisation mindset.  For those 5 minutes of seaweed world, I wasn't a girl thousands of miles away from my family, I wasn't beginning adulthood, or dreading the moment when my subway card would eventually run out of money (ironically, that happened later today).  For those 5 minutes I let the current dictate my life, a delicacy that is so rarely experienced in the developed world, and I relished the rejuvenation it produced in that class and for the rest of the day.                   

TRY OUT SEA WEED LIFE; IT ROCKS!     

"Thy friendship makes us fresh."--Henry VI 3.3.87, William Shakespeare 

I'm not sure if it was the nerves, or the fact that the playwright I'm studying is inherently wordy, but I think I saw the chattiest Katie yesterday and today.  Fact: If you only know one person in London, regardless of the fact that she is a billionaire, you're more than eager to make friends.

My billionaire mentor, Nancy, and her nice Colombian cab driver (he drank a cappuccino the entire drive; I guess that's why it takes 3 years of schooling to become a British cabbie) dropped me off at my apartment building in the Notting Hill neighborhood, known for its Portobello Road Saturday markets and flowing canal.  It was 10 am British time, and definitely time for sleep in the USA, where I would still be dreaming of this exact adventure if I were not already in London.  So needless to say, my brain (still thinking that it should be 5 am) frowned immensely when the receptionist told me I could not check in until 3 pm.

The Apartment Lounge

Sorry, old chap?

Even though I was literally willing to give over my dinosaur egg-sized suitcase for a shower, I tried to hide my disappointment.  I figured the smartest thing to do at this point was to change out of my chunky American tennis shoes (instant tourist giveaway) and slip into some more European looking boots.  Within 15 minutes in the lobby I was chatting with another girl who happened to be in my acting program, who happened to be an American, and who happened to be named Katie too.  How handy! The Twin Katies made their way down the street and set out for a cheap but yummy lunch. After the first two restaurants that we had researched on Google looked as though their doors hadn't been opened in 3 months, we found a pizza restaurant that appeared to be the way classier and British version of Chuck E. Cheese's.  These British parents had figured out the secret to keeping a toddler quiet during a meal (they could probably sell it to American parents for $4.50 per child): put an iPad with a movie in front of the child with a plate of pizza and let the magic work.  Sure enough, around the restaurant dozens of content children and their parents nommed on THE nommiest pizza I've ever had (ouch, Brooklyn).

Soon after that, Katie and I spent time in another LAMDA's student apartment, Victoria, and then finally at 3pm we met the rest of our counterparts.

I feel like most people in North Carolina would consider me fairly Northern or neutral in my accent, but here I was deemed the adorable Maybelle Southern gal (so maybe the nickname Katie May WILL catch on).  Fine by me: everyone thought whatever I said was pretty darn cute.  So maybe I'm sounding more Southern than British at this point, but hopefully that'll change.  I've also been deemed the "baby" of the group at 18 years old while all my peers (besides another gap year girl) are juniors or seniors in college.

FIRST DAY AT LAMDA!!!

Today we were introduced to the rest of our 20 classmates and some of the other students who are at LAMDA for the 1 year, 2 year, and 3 year courses!

"Real, live actors!"

We've got a pretty hectic schedule (9am to 6pm everyday), filled with trips to Hampton Court Palace and other famous locations, Royal Shakespeare Company performances, and in-house events like Poetry Competitions and "Sleazy Night" (questionable?).  All the semester students were welcomed to LAMDA with a Welcome Party held by the older students who are there for longer courses, and the academy boasted of the free alcohol and food that would be served (actors aren't that much different than college students).  I've already used the tube five times today, and I can already feel my immune system being exposed to hundreds of germs and diseases (Leggo, Vitamin C!).

Well it's 12:30am here and I've got a trip to Hampton Court Palace tomorrow, so Captain Katie signing out!    

"I am giddy; expectation whirls me round."  Troilus and Cressida, by William Shakespeare

And Shakespeare gets human emotions right...yet again.  I am more than giddy to get this London adventure underway!  Let me set the scene for you (more theater puns to follow): an eighteen-year-old girl falls in love with a boy, Romeo, whom she is forbidden to love.

Sorry, wrong story. Take #2:

An eighteen-year-old girl has been given the opportunity of a lifetime to travel the world and explore. Out of the many splotches on the map, the not-so-secret Anglophile picks an island known for the most photographed new mother and father (Prince Williams wants the baby's nursery to be "Africa themed"), an oddly charming accent, and museums filled with other countries' goodies (finders keepers, I guess).  Furthermore, as a thespian, she was immediately drawn to the society that at one point banned all traces of the theater ('tis mighty sinful, after all) but is simultaneously the home of the most influential playwright ever.  Over the next three months, she will be tested to the acting extreme as she joins 30 other aspiring actors in an intensive (9 am to 5 pm, 5 days a week) acting program which centers on Shakespearean comedies and Jacobean tragedies.  If that were not intense enough, the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art requires that her acting wardrobe consist of all black.  But enough of talking in the third person, I'm not a pompous Englishman from the 19th century...yet.

For the next three months I'll have a few buildings that will become my home away from home.

1. My own apartment! I'll be sharing a twin apartment with another actress from my program, complete with my own room, a view of London, and a kitchen.  This student apartment building also has plenty of other perks like a media room, pool tables, a roof cafe, and occasional barbecue parties (this Southerner will show them how it's done).

2. The LAMDA building!  I don't know much about the inside yet, but if the outside is any indication, I CAN'T WAIT.