Acting means to feign, to simulate, to represent, to impersonate. As Happenings demonstrated, not all performing is acting. Although acting was sometimes used, the performers in Happenings generally tended to “be” nobody or nothing other than themselves; nor did they represent, or pretend to be in, a time or place different than that of the spectator. They walked, ran, said words, sang, washed dishes, swept, operated machines and stage devices, and so forth, but they did not feign or impersonate.

In most cases, acting and not-acting are relatively easy to recognize and identify. In a performance, we usually know when a person is acting and when he is not. But there is a scale or continuum of behavior involved, and the differences between acting and not-acting may be quite small. In such cases categorization may not be easy. Perhaps some would say it is unimportant, but, in fact, it is precisely these borderline cases that can provide insights into acting theory and into the nature of the art.

For the actor, the right use of self is the only sure basis for the expressive use of self.

Such a statement seems to me to summarize a trend in actor training in this country today. Soon after the Second World War, the Stanislavski “methodists,” led by Lee Strasberg, taught us important lessons in creative process, quite transforming our acting style. We crystalized a technique built on creative responsiveness, the mark always of good acting. Presumably these lessons are now an unforgettable part of our training.

However, those of us who were students of Strasberg—or some of the other great acting teachers of that time, like Alvina Krause or Sanford Meisner—and who went on to teach another generation of young actors, sooner or later found ourselves facing more fundamental problems. These dealt with what is usually called voice and body work.

In October, 1971, Moshe Feldenkrais came to the United States to give seminars in body training at the Esalen Institute, at Carnegie Mellon, and at the School of the Arts at New York University. The interest shown in his work by these institutions reflects an important change of emphasis in the area of movement training for actors.

The choice, put simply, is between training the body to perform skillfully as a well-exercised, aesthetically pleasing physical instrument, and freeing the body of its habitual tensions and programmed patterns of behavior so that it can respond uninhibitedly to impulse, and genuinely reflect individual imagination and emotion.

There is a trend away from the use of the formal disciplines of ballet, modern dance and classical mime as exercises. Actors are turning to Yoga classes, are being Rolf’d, are taking Alexander classes and T’ai Chi.

T’ai Chi Ch’uan is a system for activating the body for the simultaneous development of physical, emotional and mental well-being. It is useful for the actor because it promotes a heightened perceptivity, sensitive awareness and stamina. Since the exercise has no stylistic mannerisms, it enhances the ability to manipulate the body expressively for any desired effect.

T’ai Chi Ch’uan (pronounced Tye Gee Chwon) has a long history. Its roots go back into the Chou Dynasty (5th Century B.C.), when concern for physical and mental health was being expressed in a philosophy of movement. But the organized exercise of T’ai Chi as we know it today dates from the 12th Century.

Jacques Lecoq's significance exists in several areas. One is that of Actor Training, for through him run the ripples emanating from Jazques Copeau in the 20's. Long after its brief existence, Copeau's school and its influence operated seminally, as did the Bauhaus experience in architecture and other arts. Copeau affected theatre in Europe and America with his explorations into free, non-naturalistic forms demanding great technical skill in voice and body; he was the seed from which new forms of education and production are still springing. Lecoq came to his principles through playing in the company of Jean Dasté, who had worked with Copeau. It is interesting to note that the four famous French names associated with mime: Decroux, Marceau, Lecoq and Barrault, all stem from Copeau; yet it would be difficult to imagine four artists who differ more in their professional choices.

Training does not teach how to act, how to be clever, does not prepare one for creation. Training is a process of self-definition, a process of self-discipline which manifests itself indissolubly through physical reactions. It is not the exercise in itself that counts—for example, bending or somersaults—but the individual's justification for his own work, a justification which although perhaps banal or difficult to explain through words, is physiologically perceptible, evident to the observer. This approach, this personal justification decides the meaning of the training, the surpassing of the particular exercises which, in reality, are stereotyped gymnastic movements.

This inner necessity determines the quality of the energy which allows work without a pause, without noticing tiredness, continuing even when exhausted and at that very moment going forward without surrendering.

Francois Delsarte (1811-1871) was the founder of a system of “Applied Aesthetics” in which physical and vocal gestures for the orator were codified in terms of a simple, extensive, highly unified pattern. His influence on the theatre was augmented by his only American pupil, Steele Mackaye, who introduced the system to the United States. It became the basic actor-training method and was extremely popular in various social uses in the twenty five years after 1870. Mackaye's own contribution to the system, its development in terms of “Harmonic Gymnastics,” played a significant part in the actor training and in the related application of these principles to physical culture. From 1870 to 1920, the Delsarte System of Oratory was perhaps the most popular single method for speech training in the United States.

The work of Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes is not very well known in the United States. Although he appears to be a playwright of some importance, none of his plays has, until now, been translated into English. Of course there are reasons for this neglect, one of which may be that he has been involved in other arts, primarily painting, and has not concentrated his energies exclusively in the theatre. During his lifetime, Ribemont-Dessaignes, who is now 87 years old, has been a painter, poet, novelist, essayist, editor, composer, radio personality, actor and “dancer,” as well as playwright. In addition, he has written a children's book and translated into French works by Nietzsche and Michelangelo.

The son of an obstetrician, Ribemont-Dessaignes was born on June 19, 1884, at Montpellier in the south of France. When he was young he secretly composed symphonies, operas and quartets and wrote a drama.