Engaged Theatre Monroe Residency Program
Our approach was to begin with a series of writing and acting exercises to lead into more elaborate improvisations, writings, and specific
scene work on the Cassius/Brutus conflict. My own interest in that scene stemmed from a sense that
therein lay many facets of the question of what it means to be a man: not in an anti-feminist or
aggressive sense, but rather in what Robert Bly called a more 'mythological' sense.
By videotaping
and transcribing their improvisations, and culling different writings from their notebooks, we would
assemble a script for them to rehearse and then perform. Even amongst our team, we had questions
about what that meant, and how to get to it in a positive and meaningful way. While both Hal
and I had participated in prison programs before, this was the first time either of us had
led a whole process. We met for probably six plus hours each week, and a good amount of that
time was spent wrangling about the best way to make the program work.
The men, though somewhat wary of us at first, entered the sessions with great commitment. We were
constantly surprised and charged up by what they came up with, by what came out of them. One man
who had little formal education provided - off the top of his head - a complete historical and social
context for Julius Caesar: he had already written on his own an elaborate ritual drama in verse.
Another, who was almost apologetic for his lack of theater experience, showed a quiet but powerful
presence onstage that was totally connected with his partner and completely truthful. From those who
seemed most self-protective came some of the most personally revealing, heartfelt work. And from
all of them came writing of beauty and vulnerability, full of startling imagery.
Even as they were wondering how the exercises and the work on Caesar was going to come together
into a piece, they continued to trust us enough to throw themselves into the work. The turning point
for us came one session when we started to read - for the umpteenth time - the Cassius/Brutus scene. We had,
as a group, isolated and discussed the various themes in the scene: betrayal, brotherhood, loyalty, trust,
truth, justice. We had done improvisations and writing on the themes. We had shared stories from our lives.
We had broken the scene down into beats, analyzing each section. And now they had had enough. Their
response to our return to the scene was an audible groan. And one man stood up and said, "Why do we need
to use Shakespeare's words? Why don't we write our own?" It was a great and terrifying moment. Hal and
I looked at each other, nodded, and said, "Right. Scrap the Shakespeare," wondering what would happen next.
The men stepped in and proposed the next exercise, and from that moment on, were beyond being just
contributors to the piece; they had become full active collaborators.
One of the other significant moments in the process occurred after one of the writing exercises.
We were sitting in a circle, and the men had been reading what they had written- writing that was
personal and very meaningful. After each one read, the others would nod in approval or applaud
quietly. After the last reading, we sat in silence for a moment, and then one man said, "Y'know,
I've been here for ten years, and in all that time have never sat in a circle with a group of men
and shared things that were important to us."
By the end, the group had grown to twelve, and their presence and commitment to the project and to each
other was total. The script came together almost by itself: one participant proved himself to be a
marvelous storyteller, and his attempts to tell a simple story were constantly interrupted by other
characters leaping in to tell their own stories. There was a chorus of old men who stepped in at regular
intervals to share their wisdom and to fight among themselves. There were fights and resolutions, songs,
and some really corny humor. Towards the end was a very moving scene created by one of the inmates which
had him walking around the prison yard, encountering on his first two passes an old man sitting alone. The
third time he passed, he noticed the man was quietly weeping, and looked more closely at him. He and the
rest of the cast gave voice to their collective realization saying "It's me. I've come back. I'm back in prison again."
The moment was chilling. And it led into our storyteller finally finishing his story, the story of two
brothers, who though very different, finally grew up to become "two good men".
Though the program officially ended a week after the four performances, we decided to continue with monthly
meetings to continue our work with the men. They have given so much of themselves to the project, and to us;
it has been and continues to be a great privilege to do this work with them.
Late Breaking News! Freehold Theatre received a matching grant from the NEA to continue to support the Engaged Theatre Residency Program
at the Monroe Correctional Facility.
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