WHO IS THIS WOMAN? - BY ALEX MINYARD

When I act, I find that I always ask myself the same questions to start; Who is this woman? Do I understand her? How can I? 

I have an insatiable need for character research. I often refer to my brain as a series of unorganized filing cabinets, bursting at the seams, unable to close. Character research helps me straighten out the eruption of files and ideas I am accumulating through the artistic process and life as an all too inquisitive observer. 

After reading the play forwards and backwards, I start to compile an ungodly amount of lists. A list of things I think the playwright wants the audience to know about this person, another filled with the purposes she serves in the story. Another list, containing all of the things the character says about herself, and another of all the things the other characters say about her. A list of the things that I think make her who she is. These lists evolve, get trashed, and at times are completely forgotten, but the simple goal is to plant the seeds for a better understanding of a woman I do not know. 

Uta Hagen’s Six Steps (formally, nine questions) have a huge place in my heart, and my head, as they have helped me become someone that I struggled to interpret on more than one occasion. By asking “Who am I?”, “What are the circumstances?”, “What are my relationships?”, etc, I begin to no longer refer to Jen as some woman I don’t recognize, but rather a version of myself I am trying to gain consciousness of. While there is no version of myself that was once a paralegal, I can make substitutions that help me feel what Jen does after a long day at the office. I look for moments in my personal life that bring me the emotions and desires that I want within this play too. 

Alas, I can’t find everything within myself. So I peel through forums, read as much as I can, and people watch all the time. I go to the zoo to watch the humans. I sit in the mall to take stock of the walks. I wander a bookstore looking for characteristics to co-opt. My work is consistently an amalgamation of people that have impacted me, whether that be a close family member that spoke in unabashed absolutes, or a complete stranger I saw blowing on a trumpet while they drove down I-480. I will always have a better understanding of what I want to become when I have a better understanding of who humans can be. Especially those who have filing cabinets much different from my own.

I’m grateful that through collaborative theatre, I have the opportunity to sift through some really amazing filing cabinets. In the rehearsal room, someone shares something that’s been in the back of their cabinet for a long time, and it finds new life. Someone shares something they’ve kept at the front of their cabinet for years, easily accessible, but someone else is just now getting to add that bit into their own collection. Talking, playing, and making mistakes with others is what gets me to a place of curated consciousness that feels intrinsic. I might not understand all aspects of who I am, but what person does?