University of Cincinnati

UNIVERSITY OF CINCINNATI

Date:______

I, ______, hereby submit this work as part of the requirements for the degree of: in:

It is entitled:

This work and its defense approved by:

Chair: ______

Humor in the Life of a Musical Theatre Production:

A Catalyst to Reduced Stress and Enhanced Performance

Patricia E. Friel

M.A., Speech and Communication Arts, University of Cincinnati, December 1979

B.A., Speech and Communication Arts and French Language and Literature,

University of Cincinnati, June 1978

A dissertation submitted to the Division of Research and Advanced Studies of the University of

Cincinnati in partial fulfillment of the requirements

for the degree of Doctor of Education (Ed.D)

Dissertation Committee Chair: Dr. Kenneth Martin

Department of Curriculum and Instruction

University of Cincinnati College of Education

November, 2004

ABSTRACT

Based on an ethnographic exploration of social psychological phenomena within the context of a musical theatre production at a Midwestern University, humor was found to play an integral part in the lives of actors/performers, directors, and stage managers. Major themes that surfaced concentrated on the role of humor in helping student actors/performers (a) cope with situational factors related to stress, tensions, and performance anxieties and/or (b) engage productively in the development of acting, singing, and/or dancing roles for public presentation. Specifically, off-stage roles involving humor and play were emphasized as well as how such roles helped or hindered on-stage performances.

Results indicated that production humor was the product of several factors. The infrastructure of the context supported various undulating patterns of humor usage and stress according to (a) the structures and processes involved in the production, (b) who engaged in humor and how, and (c) the ways in which humor contrasted with seriousness. In addition, a close look at the interior spaces of the theatre context revealed (a) numerous factors that contributed to stress and anxieties among participants and (b) various factors that contributed to confidence and role development. Overall, humor was found to be a catalyst to reduced stress and enhanced performance. Humor increased in both high and low stress situations: for example, to boost confidence, to socialize participants, to mediate moods and emotions, to stimulate creativity and spontaneity, and to underscore elements of theatre, play, and performance through ritual and superstition. However, humor desisted in situations that involved both high and low stress: for example, when stress and seriousness reached high levels due to situational variants, humor desisted in the production context, but increased in off-stage social contexts; on the other hand, humor desisted in low stress situations, such as when the goals of participants demanded concentration for success, when task functions took priority, when tasks were complex, and/or when sub-cultural norms required it.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Education is a lifelong journey encompassing many years, many teachers, many subjects, and many lessons. My educational pursuits have been mentally, emotionally, and spiritually gratifying and enriching for me, so much so that they possess a hallowed place in my life. Based on the contributions of many teachers, I am confident that I will continue to reap the benefits of life-long learning in the years ahead.

I am deeply indebted to my very first teachers, my parents, for instilling in me a deep respect for the liberating and democratizing functions of education. I also am indebted to many teachers along the way, including some from my developmental years who I have been in communication since my youth.

Moreover, it undoubtedly is fitting to thank many faculty members and administrators at the University of

Cincinnati (UC) who have contributed meaningfully to my education and my career as an educator at UC

Clermont College. UC, as my alma mater, holds a special place in my heart academically and professionally. In addition, various teachers and students through New York University contributed to this degree program as part of my participation in two summer programs in Educational Theatre in

Greenwich and London, England. Thank you to all those teachers from different stages of my journey that I have admired. Their love for teaching and learning has been contagious.

Of course, any expression of thanks would be incomplete without acknowledging the members of my doctoral and dissertation committees. I have a deep sense of gratitude and respect for each of these

UC professors. They are some of the finest human beings I have ever known as well as among the most knowledgeable and talented. I could not have asked for a better group of colleagues from diverse, yet interrelated disciplines to guide my interdisciplinary doctoral program in Communication/Social

Psychology and Educational Theatre in Adult and Higher Education. Ken Martin, my Chair, and Chet

Laine are from the College of Education’s Curriculum and Instruction Department; Annette Hemmings is from the College of Education’s Educational Foundations Department; Michael Burnham is from the

College-Conservatory of Music’s Drama Department; David Lundgren is from Arts and Sciences’

Sociology and Psychology Departments; and Michael Porte is from Arts and Sciences’ Communication

iii

Department. Together these individuals are shining examples constituting the constellation of disciplines that have developed and guided my interests throughout my adult years.

Finally, a special thank you to Patty Allen from the Dean’s Office at the UC College of Education for transcribing numerous audiotapes for this study from participant interviews. Thank you too to both external coders for this study plus various librarians at UC and UC Clermont for helping me with my literature reviews. Additionally, I wish to thank many other family members, friends, and colleagues at

UC for guiding, supporting, and/or motivating me to this end.

Though I have chosen a path traveled by few, I believe that I am the richer for my travels. My educational experiences have instilled in me many valuable lessons, not the least of which include how to locate answers to questions—my own as well as those of others—plus how to locate and continually generate meaningful questions. Furthermore, I have learned that all attainments in life take many hands and minds and hearts. In fact, this dissertation is the product of those who have come before me and who by virtue of their own discoveries have afforded me the opportunity to see a bit farther and wider.

iv TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT i

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iii

TABLE OF CONTENTS v

Chapter 1 – INTRODUCTION 1

Problem 1

Rationale 6

Role of Stress, Tensions and/or Anxieties 6

Role of Humor 9

Literature Review 11

Stress and/or Anxieties 11

Definitions and Foundations of Play 21

Performance and Role Playing 25

Foundations of Humor, Smiling, and Laughter 33

Definitions of Humorous, Fun-Of, Fun, Funny, and Amusing

Phenomena 34

Stress and Humor 40

Criticism, Competition, Conflicts, and Humor 43

Socializing and Humor 47

Moods, Emotions, and Humor 56

Creativity, Spontaneity, and Humor 59

Rituals, Superstitions, and Humor 62

Communication, Learning, and Humor 66

Conclusions 71

Chapter 2 – METHODOLOGY 74

Conceptual and Theoretical Framework 74

Research Design 76

Research Participants and Sites 81

Research Data Analysis 87

Entering and Exiting the Research Sites 94

Self-Reflective Analysis of the Research Process 98

Sample Bias 103

Conclusions 105

Chapter 3 – FINDINGS 107

The Infrastructure: Rehearsal and Production Structures and

Processes 108

Auditions 108

Casting 114

Rehearsals 115

Performances 150

Reflections on Structures and Process 160

The Infrastructure: Who Engaged in Humor and How? 169

Overall Characteristics of Who Used Humor and How 170

Physical Humor 172

Verbal Humor 187

Dangerous Humor 203

Musical Underscoring 204

The Infrastructure: Humorous Versus Serious 205

Theatre As Both Serious and Humorous, Hard Work and Fun 206

Serious On Stage Roles As The Product of Humorous Off

Stage Relationships 210

Individual Influences On and Preferences for Seriousness

Versus Humor 212

The Interior Spaces: What Contributed to Stress, Tensions,

and/or Anxieties? 216

The Experience of Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties 217

Individual Differences 227

Elements of the Production Process 239

Criticisms, Competition, and/or Conflicts 249

The Interior Spaces: What Role Did Humor Play in Helping to Cope

with Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties? 264

Confidence or Esteem Boosters 265

Socializing 272

Regulation of Moods and Emotions 286

Release of Creativity and Spontaneity 294

Solace Through Rituals and Superstitions 299

Conclusions 306

Chapter 4 – DISCUSSION 308

The Infrastructure: Rehearsal and Production Structures and

Processes 308

Auditions 309

Casting 314

Rehearsals 317

Performances 339

Reflections on Directors 342

The Infrastructure: Who Engaged in Humor and How? 344

Overall Characteristics of Who Used Humor and How 344

Physical Humor 351

vii

Verbal Humor 366

Dangerous Humor 374

Musical Underscoring 376

The Infrastructure: Humorous Versus Serious 376

Theatre As Both Serious and Humorous, Hard Work and Fun 376

Serious On Stage Roles As The Product of Humorous Off

Stage Relationships 380

Individual Influences On and Preferences for Seriousness

Versus Humor 382

The Interior Spaces: What Contributed to Stress, Tensions,

and/or Anxieties? 387

The Experience of Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties 388

Individual Differences 394

Elements of the Production Process 402

Criticisms, Competition, and/or Conflicts 403

The Interior Spaces: What Role Did Humor Play in Helping to Cope

with Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties? 409

Confidence or Esteem Boosters 409

Socializing 417

Regulation of Moods and Emotions 427

Release of Creativity and Spontaneity 434

Solace Through Rituals and Superstitions 438

Conclusions 443

The Infrastructure: Rehearsal and Production Structures

and Processes 446

The Infrastructure: Who Engaged in Humor and How? 449 viii

The Infrastructure: Humorous Versus Serious 452

The Interior Spaces: What Contributed to Stress, Tensions,

and/or Anxieties? 453

The Interior Spaces: What Role Did Humor Play in Helping

to Cope with Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties? 458

Implications for Future Research 461

REFERENCES 467

APPENDIX A 485

APPENDIX B 488

APPENDIX C 491

Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION

Problem

The use of play to create theatrical products is as old as theatre itself. Our theatre lexicon is filled with words employing the concept of play: plays, players, playhouses, playwriting, playmaking, role- playing, play reviewing. The fourth-century philosopher and teacher Aristotle recognizes the affinity between theatre and the concept of play in his seminal work The Poetics (Aristotle, 1968). There he claims that imitation or mimicry is an essential element of dramatic action. Through the ages, many scholars have recognized that imitation, a fundamental element of play, is the foundation of all art. Art is

“to hold . . . the mirror up to nature,” wrote Shakespeare (1975, p. 1090). V. Turner (1982) carries this notion further, writing, “Life is as much an imitation of art as the reverse” (p. 72). E. Wilson (2004) further notes that playful imitation not only is one of the primary ways in which we assimilate many aspects of our cultural behavior and communication patterns with others, but it is the basis of all theatre and other types of performing arts.

Humor is an aspect of play, though not all play is humorous, and not all humor is playful.

Though difficult to define, humor in the present study refers to the numerous types of incongruous, ludicrous, playful, or amusing messages that may be conveyed verbally and/or nonverbally by a person or group in order to generate smiling and laughing in others (Roechelein, 2002). Humor, like play, is ubiquitous, running the gamut from light, innocent, and frivolous to dark, dangerous, and macabre.

Roechelein refers to comedy as a form of drama that deals with humorous aspects of human behavior within a framework of certain conventions of dramatic literature. Hence, humor is always part of literary comedies, whether read or performed. Likewise, elements of literary comedies permeate mundane humorous exchanges. However, within the current study, humor will be addressed as a self-contained form of communication distinct from the acquisition of technical knowledge and skills required to enact or perform in literary comedies.

Specifically, within the present study, humor in addition to play may be viewed from a social psychological perspective as an integral part of the life of the theatre. Rather than addressing comedic conventions, this study focuses on the everyday uses of humor and its close association with play and performance. Indeed, it is the association of meanings inherent in the concept of play that form a foundation for understanding several key concepts in the current study: acting, role playing, performing, and the role of humor in helping to prepare and train actors/performers for participation in American musical theatre. The focus of the present research is not on theatrical techniques of acting or performing, but rather on social psychological phenomena related to humorous roles devised and performed for off stage or backstage use—in particular, humorous roles that may have added to or reduced anxieties, and thereby contributed to or taken away from participants’ stage role development.

An ethnographic exploration was conducted within a theatre department at a Midwestern university that addressed the role of humor in helping young actors/performers cope with their stress, tensions, and/or anxieties while developing acting, singing, and/or dancing roles for public presentation.

Various themes were generated after analyzing data from forty field observations, twenty-three interviews, and various written documents and photographs—data that were gathered throughout the duration of a musical theatre production and beyond. The focus of the study was on the individual actors and their experiences. However, directors and stage managers also were observed and interviewed.

Participants in this production acted as they performed hence they are referred to as actors/performers.

In particular, answers to two overarching questions were sought: one, what helped, and two, what hindered actors/performers in the development of stage roles? Answers gleaned from these questions form the structural foundation of this dissertation: first, the infrastructure of the musical theatre production under investigation consisted of (a) the structures and processes involved in the production,

(b) who engaged in humor and how, and (c) the ways in which humor contrasted with seriousness; second, the interior spaces of the context consisted of (a) numerous factors that contributed to stress and

anxieties among participants, and (b) various factors that contributed to confidence and role development.

Overall, humor was found to be a catalyst to reduced stress and enhanced performance.

The current study is innovative and progressive. Only one other study was discovered to deal with humor and roles in a theatrical context—Loy’s and Brown’s (1982) “Red Hot Mamas, Sex Kittens, and Sweet Young Things: Role Engulfment in the Lives of Musical Comedy Performers.” Thus, many stand to profit from this project, in particular, any individuals who are interested in stress and/or anxieties, theatre, role development, the social sciences, education, and/or humor. Theatre directors, whether musical, vocal, artistic, or choreographic, may glean insights into the role of humor as a means of stress reduction and role enhancement in their current and future teaching and directing endeavors with young and seasoned artists. They may establish training programs in the uses and benefits of humor for performing artists and/or experiment with its use in group forums or one-on-one encounters. Educators from diverse parts of the academy may benefit in terms of their classroom performances from findings related to communication, teaching, learning, and humor. Scholars may locate and develop future research agendas based on the findings and implications discussed. Likewise, students from various venues may find value in this study for their personal, academic, and/or professional lives.

Acting, role-playing, and performing hold distinct meanings within this study, and therefore merit clarification. First, as E. Wilson (2004) explains, imitation is one type of acting; role-playing is another type that we engage in on and off stage. He writes that every culture specifies behaviors expected from people who assume social roles, such as father, mother, teacher, or student. Wilson also recognizes that people assume various personal roles in life, such as vegetarian, peacemaker, or dominator. Similarly, actors within this study were observed participating in social and personal roles, such as students, cohorts, boy or girlfriends, humorists, leaders, or followers. Some of these aided in understanding how certain off stage roles helped or hindered successful transformations into on stage roles.

Like imitation, role-playing also refers to acting done on stage. Stage acting, E. Wilson (2004) says, involves playing unreal dramatic characters in conscious and believable ways in front of observers

while using our observations, sense of imitation, imagination, and ability (p. 80). Thus, acting involves a specialized kind of role-playing—one that requires talent, training, and discipline. It also requires a great deal of work. R. Cohen (2000) remarks, “We might say, finally, that theatre is the art of making play into work—specifically, into a work of art” (p. 14).

Again, humor may be said to help the actor transform him or herself into an acting role by relieving anxieties and unleashing creativities. R. Cohen (2000) adds that impersonation, a play-like behavior underlying all dramatic action, is at the heart of theatre. To distinguish a real person from a character, a playwright’s own thoughts from his or her characters’, one must engage in what Samuel

Coleridge calls the “willing suspension of disbelief” (1985, p. 314). Otherwise, spectators’ realities and fantasies become confused. This highlights one of the quintessential basis of play—illusion. To expound on this notion, Cohen writes:

In a play, it must be the characters who have apparent life; the actors themselves are expected to

disappear into the shadows . . . . This convention gives rise to what the eighteenth-century

French encyclopedist Denis Diderot called the paradox of the actor: when the actor has perfected

his or her art, it is the simulated character, the mask, which seems to live before our eyes, while

the real person has no apparent life at all. The strength of such an illusion still echoes in our use

of the word person, which derives from the Latin word (persona) for mask. (p.16)

As defined, acting is a specialized kind of role-playing that is an illusory extension of and heightened version of real life, but performance still needs distinguished from acting and role-playing.

Again, we perform roles in real life, such as when we play sports or develop new relationships. R. Cohen

(2000) defines performance as “an action or series of actions taken for the ultimate benefit (attention, entertainment, enlightenment, or involvement) of someone else” (p. 19). According to Smiley (1987), performing involves “showing oneself, demonstrating one’s ability or talent—perhaps singing, dancing, or telling jokes,” whereas acting involves a deep transformation into someone else (p. 105). According to

R. Cohen, performing, as Smiley defines it, is presentational or direct performance, such as singing and

dancing; acting is representational or indirect. Additionally, as in real life, stage performances are live, existing in what Thornton Wilder called “the perpetual present tense” (Barranger, 2002).

Regarding the active and public nature of acting and performing, E. Wilson (2004) states, “these words mean ‘to do something,’ or ‘ to be active.’ The word drama derives from a Greek root, the verb dran, meaning ‘to do’ or ‘to act.’ At its heart, theater involves action” (p. 248). In addition, Barranger

(2002) notes that all theatrical or dramatic action must take place in a seeing place open for the view of all, specifically in a place the Greeks referred to as a theatron. Since participants in this current study were said to have been acting when they were embodying a character and performing when they were singing and dancing, they acted as they performed.

Humor and play possess the potential to offset anxieties whereas acting and performing often activate them. Acting and performing consist of specialized kinds of play that, since they are open to the view of all, are anxiety provoking. They are rooted, however, in the largely non-anxiety provoking activity of what Huizinga (1976) calls “the primeval soil of play” that is the root of all art (p. 49). Thus, according to Schechner (2002), play propels the action that drives artists to produce art for pubic consumption. Play is an intimate part of the process of creating art, but is not highly anxiety provoking in and of itself. Rather the product of art— the performance—is the culprit that triggers trepidation and generates angst.

Acting, performing, and play are not mutually exclusive acts rather they are interrelated acts dependent on performances for their fruition. Performances, according to Schechner (2002), “mark identities, bend time, reshape and adorn the body, and tell stories. Performances—of art, rituals, or ordinary life—are made of ‘twice-behaved behaviors,’ ‘restored behaviors,’ performed actions that people train to do, that they practice and rehearse” (p. 22). We think of performances as dramas or dances that consist of consciously or unconsciously rehearsed behaviors for a public. The very nature of performance provokes anxiety for many.

The question that is raised is, if performances are so anxiety provoking, then why do people engage in them? R. Cohen (2001) states:

In great theatre we glimpse not only the physical and emotional exuberance of play but also the

deep yearnings that propel humanity’s search for purpose, meaning, and the life well lived. Art,

of course, is one of the most supreme pursuits of humanity, integrating, in a unique fashion, our

emotions with our intellects and our aesthetics with our revelations. Art is empowering, to both

those who make it and those who appreciate it. Art sharpens thought and focuses feeling; it

brings reality up against imagination and presses creativity to the ever expanding limits of human

potential. (p. 15)

Theatre represents a collaborative and interdisciplinary art form that involves playwriting, directing, acting, performing, designing, architecture, and in the musical theatre, music, voice, dance, and sometimes other specialized art forms. For this very reason, according to R. Cohen (2001), theatre sometimes is viewed as a base rather than a pure art form. But it is an art form in its own right, and thus must be judged on its own merits without bias.

Rationale

Now that the purpose and problem of the present study have been presented, the study’s rationale for focusing on humor as a means of coping with stress and anxieties among actors and other participants in a musical theatre production is discussed. First, we will explore the extent to which it is profitable to study stress and anxieties. Second, we will explore why the role of humor in offsetting anxieties and enhancing performances is a viable opportunity.

Role of Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

First of all, one of the distinguishing features of all performing arts professions is their public nature. Actors and performers are observed by at least their teachers, directors, peers, and the public.

They also encounter casting personnel and critics. Thus, people do not elect acting and performing as careers unless they enjoy some degree of self-confidence and a desire to be in the public eye.

Nonetheless, research and experience indicate that virtually all actors/performers undergo varying levels and kinds of performance anxieties at times during their careers (Bayles & Orland, 1993; Robin & Balter,

1995). Robin et al. assert, “Both professional and civilian performers can experience performance anxiety, and both can be ‘done in’ by it” (p. 4).

The prevalence of performance anxieties provides sound reason for investigating it. Whether referred to as communication apprehension, social anxiety, or performance anxiety, many people are so anxious about performing in public that they rate the sheer possibility of such encounters as greater than even the fear of death (Brusken Associates, 1973). Several other studies indicate that 100% of the population experiences at least some situation-specific anxiety, and that 60% experiences above average levels of it. Additionally, a small percentage of people experience too little anxiety, but 20% possess trait-like anxiety across a wide range of contexts (H. Cohen, 1980; Glaser, 1981; McCroskey, Fall 1977;

Richmond & McCroksey, 1998).

The specialized needs of actors/performers, including socio-cultural factors known to undermine their self-confidence, are further reasons to investigate stress and/or anxiety. First, the artist in contemporary society is plagued by the problem of producing flawless art. This is due largely to the current notion that art is a form of self-expression wherein “art transcends what you do, and represents what you are” (Bayles et al., 1993, p. 7). Second, although good art generally comes from substantial work, the still present Platonic notion of art as “a gift from the gods” causes many to question their abilities and perhaps to become deluded into thinking that they lack talent (p. 28). Third, this is compounded by artists’ needs for approval from a public that holds high expectations for art and talent.

The verdict, according to the authors, is a myriad of fears and anxieties with regard to personal, academic, and professional expectations.

Moreover, there is substantial evidence to attest to the need for attention and adaptation to anxieties within educational settings, such as the musical-theatre setting, which I studied. First, Mager

(1984) points out that students’ attitudes and teachers’ affective communication have a major impact on

learning. He writes, “Fear and anxiety are conditions that people try to avoid. When learning is associated with these states, the learner is more likely to learn to avoid the subject being taught” (p. 132).

McCroskey (January 1977) adds, “Students must communicate to learn. Those who communicate less, learn less” (p. 33).

Performance anxieties are normal for even actors/performers. Since 100% of the population experiences at least situational or state anxieties at times and approximately 60% experiences above average levels of it, Richmond et al. (1998) contend that anxieties in social and performing contexts are normal pathologies. They reserve pathological behaviors for instances when people act abnormally in threatening situations, such as by not withdrawing when they should or by over-communicating when they should not.

So how have researchers dealt with the advancement of knowledge about anxieties? Not as well as hoped. According to Mandler (Spielberger, 1972), anxiety research has been fragmented due to a preoccupation with new methods and findings. As a result, efforts to develop a determinate theory or global explanation that can be shared among researchers have been thwarted. Lazarus (Spielberger, 1972) further adds, “If anxiety is not differentiated from depression, guilt, anger, and aggression, then we are in the unfortunate theoretical position Dr. Mandler claims to be decrying, that of overgeneral, overextended, loose theorizing” (p. 378). More than a decade following these criticisms, Clevenger (1984) claims that overlapping and intersecting terms continue to confuse anxiety research. Booth-Butterfield (1991) reports that we still were lacking a comprehensive definition in the early 1990's. Perhaps by studying situational variants, the current study might contribute to a global view of anxiety.

The current study also offers a new context for investigating situational anxieties—a musical theatre production. Although trait-state theory distinguishes between personality traits and situational states, most research addresses such anxieties in either public speaking, interpersonal, or group contexts.

As such, McCroskey (1984) notes that less is known about situational variations affecting anxieties in differing contexts, such as theatre and other performance contexts. This may contribute to the misleading

notion of trait anxiety as a situation-invariant or of the trait-state continuum as a false dichotomy with limit generalizability.

In addition, even though situational determinants of anxiety are easily recognizable, Daly and

Buss (1984) note that little progress has been made to systematically integrate them into a single model.

Further, according to Clevenger (1984), when an appropriate situational classification system is found, it most likely will include two kinds of variables: “those concerned with the structure of the social context and those associated with transient developments within that context” (p. 228).

The current study unveils a number of situational variables related to humor and play and how they contributed to or diminished performance anxieties among actors. This study did not focus on trait- like anxieties. Rather the outcomes of the current study were paired well with Schechner’s (2002) plea for studying the structures and processes involved in, for example, theatre rehearsals and performances, and how they contribute to participants’ overall experiences of play and humor. In addition, this study addresses Schechner’s proposed needs to understand the purposes and functions of play. By extension, we address what kinds of humor were used in various contexts in order to uncover insights into relevant social phenomena.

Role of Humor

Second, the current study explores the role of humor in helping participants to cope with stress, tensions, and/or anxieties within a musical theatre context. As Chapman and Foot (1996) note, “Humour plays a myriad of roles and serves a number of quite different functions” (p. 4). Such complex phenomena need studied long-term. Most theories of humor and laughter focus on situations that elicit humor rather than on the nature, types, and functions of humor and laughter across different contexts. By covering these latter areas, the present study poses questions remaining in humor research.

Martin, Kuiper, Olinger, and Dance (1993) claim that researchers need to better uncover the exact processes by which humor is used to cope with stress and to cultivate well being. The direction of causality in the humor and stress equation needs clarification: for example, does a strong orientation

toward humor lead to better coping, or does the need to cope stimulate the development of effective humorous techniques and a strengthened self-concept over time? The authors claim that since humor, smiling, and laughter are important variables, both play key roles in psychological as well as physical health and in personal as well as social relationships.

Past research also has focused largely on the negative emotional and physiological effects and outcomes of stress. Future research needs to explore how humor overall is associated with positive affect and well being (Martin, Kuiper, et al., 1993). The authors write:

Not only does humor appear to be an effective means of mitigating stress, but it also appears to be

linked with the greater enjoyment of positive life experiences and a more positive orientation

towards self. The means whereby this is accomplished include cognitive appraisals that provide

the humorous individual with a more positive focus towards a variety of life events while at the

same time offering a more optimal degree of self-protection. (p. 102)

One generalization from this dissertation was that humor functioned in a positive or innocent manner rather than a disparaging one. Insights into the positive aspects of humor serve the humanistic function of helping others improve the quality of their lives. As Pollio and Edgerly (1996) point out, “the social event of humour allows for the cathartic release of aggressions, hostilities and taboos and provides for a positive-public affirmation that such activities are acceptable providing an appropriate balance is maintained” (p. 241). Such balance is maintained through comic artistry or humor. These phenomena, therefore, may be elevated to a position of distinction in social research. Due to researchers’ preoccupations with negative phenomena, only Allport’s notion of the tenderness taboo stands in the way,

Derks (1996) notes.

Furthermore, Derks (1996) states, “A most encouraging prospect for the future of humor research is the potential for interdisciplinary cooperation and understanding” (p. xx). He continues, “The ecological validity of real humorous exchanges in social situations is extremely important” (p. xix). By combining research from sociology, psychology, communication, theatre, and education, this study

probes multiple means of understanding functions and types of play and humor. Moreover, this study focuses on a musical theatre setting, a context that heretofore has been given scant attention in social science research; the only example located to date was Loy’s and Brown’s (1982) article exploring role engulfment in the lives of female musical theatre comedy performers.

There appears to be a solid rationale for the present study of humor and its contributions— intercultural and otherwise—to theatre, education, and the social sciences. As Caron (2002) points out, no cultures exist that do not have a vast repertoire of humorous behaviors designed to generate smiling and laughter. Second, as Derks (1996) writes, “It is in the merger of theory and application . . . that the future looks most exciting (for humor research)” (p. xix).

Literature Review

Stress and/or Anxieties

The purpose of this section of the literature review is to provide definitions of various overlapping and intersecting terms related to stress and/or anxieties. This section also addresses determinants of stress and anxiety and how their negative affects may be reduced.

First, five terms will be explored to define anxiety: performance anxiety, communication apprehension, social anxiety, fear, and stress. First, performance anxiety is a generic term. As Robin et al. (1995) note, performing means doing something in the public eye, whether the performer is an actor or a businesswoman. Moreover, performance anxiety may be experienced in anticipation of, in preparation for, and/or in the midst of an actual performance.

Conceptually, performance anxiety is akin to two key terms. From Communication Arts,

McCroskey (Fall 1977) defines communication apprehension (CA), as ". . . an individual's level of fear or anxiety associated with either real or anticipated communication with another person or persons" (p. 78).

CA is a general term, applicable to a variety of contexts. In addition, unlike some terms, it treats anxiety as the root of social problems along a continuum with correlational variables such as self-esteem and introversion-extroversion. McCroskey's definition also specifies that high-CA people characteristically

avoid and/or withdraw from communication. That is, they possess what Burgoon (1977) calls unwillingness (or a low desire) to communicate.

For another, from the field of Psychology, Leary (1983) distinguishes between two general classes of anxieties based on their situational structures. First, he proposes the term social anxiety to refer to the state of an individual in a given situation at a given time. Second, he uses the term social anxiousness to refer to the frequency and/or intensity with which people tend to experience anxiety across situations and time. These terms are closely aligned with CA.

Further, Leary (1983) makes two more distinctions. First, he notes that "in contingent interactions, an individual's responses are contingent upon the responses of other interactants, such as in conversations" (p. 68). Since this involves, for example, dating anxiety, Leary uses the term interaction anxiety to refer to anxiety resulting from contingent interactions. On the other hand, he writes, "In noncontingent encounters, the individual's behavior is guided primarily by one's plans and only minimally, if at all, by others‘ responses, such as an actor's behavior is guided in a play" (p. 68). Leary applies the term audience anxiety to anxiety resulting from noncontingent encounters. CA primarily represents anxieties in noncontingent encounters.

Leary (1983) notes that his terminology is of more than taxonomic importance. Although social anxiety may arise from a concern with how one is appearing to self and/or others (Buss, 1980; Leary,

1986), people with certain attributes may experience one form of anxiety more than another. People may feel unable to perform in conversations, but quite secure to perform in a play. That is, some may feel high interaction anxiety, but low audience anxiety. The converse also may occur. Further research is needed to test the coherence of this taxonomy.

Buss (1980) notes that social anxiety assumes the much larger category of fearfulness, including fears in social and nonsocial contexts, such as airplanes. However, CA only refers to fears associated with anticipated or real communication with people. Phillips (1977) defines fear as a situation-specific response to an anticipated or real danger. Anxiety is a more free-floating and intense response akin to a

phobia. The memory of a phobic response may increase the fear of such a response reoccurring, especially when a person is in a similar situation again.

Selye’s (1978) fight-or-flight syndrome claims that under conditions of perceived or real danger, the normal response is either to stay and fight back or, if the danger is great, to flee. Danger is environmental. It elicits fear, and fear incites stress. Phobic reactions generate feelings of anxiety, and lead to inappropriate action or inaction. Indeed, Selye as well as Phillips (1977) and Buss (1980) note that stress can defeat us if its levels exceed our normal, daily doses. Selye refers to the debilitating effects of anxiety or stress as distress.

Based on Seyle’s (1978) observations of numerous medical patients and their stressors—deaths, loss of jobs or spouses—he developed his concept of the general adaptation syndrome (GAS). GAS consists of three physical stages related to stress—alarm, resistance, and exhaustion. Halonen and

Santrock (1999) note that Seyle’s three stages of GAS are criticized, given their presence depends on one’s situational, perceptual, personality, and physical characteristics.

Still, Seyle’s (1978) GAS is popular. It proposes that the alarm stage is like a temporary state of shock. Temperature and blood pressure drop, and the body loses muscle tone. Then the adrenal cortex enlarges, and large quantities of adrenalin are released into the blood stream. After the short alarm stage, the body begins to fight or flee from the stress. This resistance stage involves dramatic increases in heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, and respiration. If the overall effort to combat stress is successful, the body returns to normal. If not, the individual moves into the exhaustive stage. Exhaustion may lead to muscular and joint pain, intestinal disturbances, loss of appetite and weight, and hypertension. According to Bensen (1984, 1976), hypertension, if untreated, leads to atherosclerosis, heart attacks, and strokes.

As Holmes and Rahe (1967) indicate, environmental stress is in concert with Selye’s biological stress to overwhelm people at times, leading to greater susceptibility to diseases. Holmes and Rahe normed a social readjustment scale, which ranks stressful life events from the death of a spouse or divorce at the top to vacation and minor legal violations at the bottom.

However, a certain level of stress is required for all activities. The Yerkes-Dodson theory (Leary,

1995) illustrates that every task requires some level of stress for accomplishment. Too little stress, and we lack motivation; too much, and we function below par.

Furthermore, symptoms of stress can be experienced as a result of perceived, anticipated, or real pleasure. Seyle (1978) refers to this latter condition as eustress. Also Richmond et al. (1998) note that similar physiological responses may be interpreted as keyed up and “excited”—a condition of eustress— or noxious and “terrified”—a condition of distress (p. 94-95).

Moreover, anxieties are experienced on a continuum between trait-like and state anxieties

(Cohen, 1980; Glaser, 1981; McCroskey, Fall 1977; Richmond et al., 1998). This state-trait theory was first explicated by Spielberger (1976). At one end of the continuum, trait-like anxiety refers to a relatively enduring, personality-type fear or anxiety of communication in general, regardless of the context. It is experienced by about 20% of the population. Context-based anxiety also is a relatively enduring, personality-type predisposition, occurring in around 60% of the population in specific performance contexts, such as speech settings. Audience-based anxiety is a relatively enduring predisposition toward another person or group, usually authority figures, and is experienced by about 95% of the population. At the other end of the continuum, situational or state anxiety may be motivated by lack of skills, conspicuousness, evaluation, unfamiliarity, criticism, novelty, formality, pretense, or prior successes and failures. Nearly 100% of the population experience state anxiety at some time.

Second, let us look at the determinants of and potential remedies for performance anxieties.

There are two categories of theories about causes—one deals with response domains believed to lead to anxieties, and the other deals with the origins of shy or socially anxious behaviors. We will look at theories from the first category of theories and some from the second category for the purposes of this study. For one, Clevenger (1959) advocates a theory of response domains, which separates anxious responses into three domains—physiological, cognitive, and behavioral. His theory provides a conceptual

basis for understanding the self-perceived roots of anxiety and leading treatment methods. Robin et al.

(1995) support these three domains, and add an emotional domain.

First, when people are fearful and anxious, some form of excessive physiological activation occurs. This may involve greater or lesser amounts of rapid heart beat, perspiration, dry mouth, queasiness, and so on. Such symptoms lead to hindered action or inaction.

Components of both physiological theories of emotions below have been found to be true. For one, the James-Lang theory, according to Kassin (2004), states that “emotion stems from the physiological arousal that is triggered by an emotion-eliciting stimulus” (p. 467). Your car is stolen, your body becomes biologically activated, you verbally attack the parking lot attendant, and then you interpret your actions as angry. For another, the Cannon-Bard theory proposes that “the body and ‘mind’ are activated independently in the experience of emotion” (Kassin, p. 468). Upon realizing that your car is stolen, your brain produces physiological changes (rapid heart beat and breathing) and sends messages from the thalamus to the autonomic nervous system, skeletal muscles, and cerebral cortex to interpret what is happening. You then choose a response.

Remedies for physical tension include meditation, such as that described in Benson’s (1975,

1984) books on relaxation response, and deep breathing exercises (Padus, 1992). Padus also notes that endorphines released during aerobic exercise help to relieve tension and promote a sense of well being.

Massage therapy, by releasing bodily toxins, also relieves stress. In addition, Glaser (1981) reports a method of treating physical activation called systematic desensitization (SD). SD includes progressive muscle relaxation, developed by Jacobson in the 1920s and later refined by Paul (1966) based on the work of Wolpe. It also includes visualization of successively increasing anxiety-provoking stimuli. SD is successful with less generalized anxieties, and in combination with cognitive and/or skills therapies.

Ayres (1986) and Ayres and Hopf (1985, 1987) boast highly successful results with visualization alone in public-speaking settings.

Second, another response domain posed by Clevenger (1959; Daly et al., 1984) proposes that inappropriate cognitive processing leads to fears and anxieties. Very basically, since negative cognitions lower self-esteem, reducing anxieties requires substituting positive, coping statements for negative ones to raise esteem and lower anxieties. This is a learning theory based model like SD, which assumes that apprehension and avoidance can be unlearned. In fact, people can be presumed to have the requisite skills to perform competently once negative self-statements about their skills are reduced (Behnke & Beatty,

1981; Glaser, 1981).

Various cognitive theories of emotion are noteworthy. For example, Schachter and Singer (1962) propose that as events produce physiological arousal in us, we look to the world around us in order to interpret the external cues present and to label our emotions. Lazarus (1982) contends that cognitive appraisals, including beliefs, values, and goals, are prerequisites for emotions. But Zajonc (1984) believes that cognitions result from first experiencing emotions. Each theory has valid aspects to it

(Halonen & Santrock, 1999), but Lazarus’ theory is the prototype for leading cognitive therapies.

Fremoux (1984; Fremoux & Scott, 1979) and others have advocated cognitive restructuring (CR) treatments in many contexts. CR is one type of cognitive therapy, others including cognitive modification, rational restructuring, rational emotive therapy (RET), and rational behavioral therapy

(RBT). RET and RBT are based, respectively, on the works of Ellis (1995) and Maultsby (1984). Both of these popular therapies advocate that an activating event leads to a belief which in turn leads to a consequence or feeling. Maultsby emphasizes resulting behaviors. Thus, as Epictetus stated centuries ago, “People are disturbed not by things, but by the views they take of them” (Ellis, 1995, p. 53). Glaser

(1981) notes that these cognitive therapies have been effective for individuals with more generalized and high degrees of anxiety. Further, they have been successfully applied to group, dyadic, and public speaking settings.

According to Robin et al. (1995), emotional symptoms include not only feelings of anxiety, but also may include those of embarrassment or shame about being anxious or a constellation of negative

emotions, such as depression, self-downing, low self-esteem, anger, and panic. Of course, some people also may experience elation, joy, pleasure, or happiness as a result of being in performance settings.

Padus (1992) points out a variety of additional treatments for our emotions and our health, including the use of humor. She cites research that indicates that laughter creates a healthy massage for our internal organs. So she advises people to start to have fun, to spend time with happy people, to adopt a positive expectation from the world, and to continue to laugh.

Third, for Clevenger (1984), anxiety and avoidance may be the direct result of inadequate behavioral repertoires. This is a skills deficit model, assuming that an individual’s communication interactions, if inadequate, may result in negative consequences which in turn may cause anxiety and avoidance (Glaser, 1981).

Richmond et al. (1998) confirm that high CAs typically believe that they possess skills deficits whereas low CAs typically do not. However, some people have the requisite skills to perform, but irrationally believe they do not. Much depends on how a person thinks about both a situation and their physical, affective, and behavioral responses to it.

Leading treatments within the behavioral domain focus on skills development. For example,

Phillips (1977) excludes anxiety as the causative agent of avoidant behavior in his definition of reticence.

Reticence refers to people who “perceive that they can gain more by remaining silent than they can by participation” (p. 39). He believes that reticence results from rational or irrational self-perceived communication incompetence. He notes, however, that faulty skills could result from inadequate learning or anger, depression, or shame. In order to treat behavioral or skills deficit problems, Phillips developed a method known as “rhetoritherapy.”

Anxiety remedies discussed thus far appear to be helpful to actors. Here are a variety of additional remedies (Friel, 1999). Based on acting texts, observations, and interviews, training in physical and vocal relaxation, and breathing are included in acting programs routinely. Visualization (or guided imagery) is included frequently. Further, positive self-talk appears to be a central means of

reducing actors’ anxieties, such as might be involved in accepting anxieties and focusing, recalling your strong work ethic, and re-experiencing your unconditional love of theatre and your successes in it.

Equally important are a sense of humor and ample rehearsal. Actors have additional avenues for decreasing performance anxieties that are dependent on others: acceptance and approval, constructive feedback and competition with the self, democratic directing practices, and psychological counseling.

Finally, seasoning as a person through life experiences further develops self-confidence over time.

Many scholars (Daly et al., 1984; Richmond et al., 1998; Watson & Crayer, Fall 1980) firmly contend that strategies for change should be well adapted to the kind of CA. McCroskey (Fall 1977) also asserts that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, though it is presumptuous to assume that every high CA is unhappy and desires change. Still when adults show signs of high CA, every effort should be made to assist them—that is, when they are experiencing pain, lacking the skills to be successful, acting irrationally about themselves, others, and/or the world around them, and/or asking for your help (Booth-Butterfield, 1990). Assistance may be administered by an instructor or director or referred to a therapist.

Below are various theories regarding the origins of anxieties. First, modeling and reinforcement theories have long enjoyed a position of prominence among scholars (Richmond et al., 1998). Both contend that the greater the extent of appropriate (and positive) input or feedback from others, the less likely anxiety is to form. However, inappropriate (and negative) input or feedback, or lack thereof, is likely to lead to increased social anxiety. More research is needed in the area of modeling of communication behaviors and, to a greater extent, how modeling, in conjunction with reinforcement, makes a contribution.

Moreover, according to Schlenker (1980), primary self-presentational motives center around attempts to maximize expected rewards and to minimize expected punishments. His expectancy-value theory reveals that people are motivated to claim images that possess the highest potential value or

rewards; costs for failing to claim an image also play a role. Rewards may include relational outcomes, such as approval, and/or an increase in material outcomes.

Maximizing one's cost-reward ratio may stand distinctly on its own, or may be interrelated with self-esteem and self-identity factors (Leary & Kowalski, 1990). In addition to noting that the motivation to maintain and enhance positive self-esteem has become an axiom of human behavior, these authors add that people impression-manage in order to protect their esteem in two ways, especially when they expect others’ feedback. Feedback increases self-esteem when it is positive, and decreases it when critical or rejecting. For another, people evaluate themselves, and in so doing, may imagine others’ reactions. If they believe they performed favorably or will, their esteem will rise; if not, their esteem will fall.

Further, Leary et al. (1990) note that behaviors that obtain rewards from others and self are not only those that raise self-esteem, but establish self-identities. In order to solidify an identity, one must engage in identity-relevant activities. Such activities help others to understand and respond to us according to how we want to be treated; and receiving targeted responses is intrinsically rewarding, helping us recreate an impression-relevant identity in the future to solidify our identities for others and us.

When impeded, anxiety is augmented.

Moreover, social approval is a key reinforcer. Leary (1995) states, AWe would expect people who particularly need approval or fear disapproval from others to be more motivated to manage their impressions@ (p. 59). Indeed, need for approval is correlated with the fear of negative evaluation such that failure, rejection, and embarrassment or shame increase the desire for social approval and impression- management motives.

Several other theories reveal significant consequences for anxiety. Based on the work of Piaget, Beatty and Behnke (1980) propose that fears and anxieties increase at times and decrease at others depending on the nature of interactions and/or interventions. Their assimilation theory predicts two specific effects or outcomes of cognitions on category systems: "(1) categories are affirmed, reinforced, and stabilized by experiences consistent with category expectations; and (2) the stability of

categories is weakened by inconsistent experiences, thereby increasing the potential for change" (p. 320).

Beatty and Behnke found that even trait CA students evaluate their state anxiety in light of their personal levels of CA. If a discrepancy arises, they assimilate and alter their level of CA in the direction of the discrepancy.

A social comparison theory perspective of anxieties, as proposed by Ayres (1986), attempts to explain anxieties in terms of people's perceptions of how others view their communication abilities.

Again, this represents a social cognitive perspective, like Festinger's cognitive dissonance theory. Social comparison theory contends that anxieties arise out of feeling that one is unable to meet audience expectations. However, when people learn that audiences are not as difficult to please as thought, they see themselves as better able to meet lower expectations, thus their anxieties subside. This theory also explains how others influence our perceptions. If we believe we possess capabilities equal to or better than those around us, our anxieties about performing in front of them will remain low; if we believe others possess capabilities better than our own, our anxieties about performing will increase.

Based on the dramaturgical work of Irving Goffman (1959), Schlenker and Leary (1982) present a model of self-presentation and social anxiety. They lay out nine propositions, some of which are noteworthy for this study. First, they propose that social anxiety presents a perceived threat to a person’s identity when they are motivated to make favorable impressions on real or imagined audiences, but doubt that they can do so. Evaluations from others that are unsatisfactory, whether perceived or imagined, increase anxieties in proportion to the subjective importance of the audience. As corollaries to this proposition, Schlenker et al. note that when self-doubt and the goals or standards of performance are high, social anxiety increases.

Schlenker et al. (1982) further assert that when a goal or standard is important and/or when one’s social performance is impeded, an assessment process is triggered regarding the audience, situation, and themselves. This assessment process may occur and reoccur before and during social interactions. The more people doubt their self-efficacy, the greater their tendency to engage in self-assessment prior to even

relatively innocuous interactions. Schlenker et al. (1982) further states that when an individual assesses that they can achieve a goal or standard, they will experience positive affect and motivation; when they doubt their abilities, they will experience negative affect and withdraw.

Definitions and Foundations of Play

Although play is said to be difficult to define, everyone engages in it throughout their life span and regardless of their culture, both as a participant and as an observer. Play is ubiquitous. Like humor, it may be formal, informal, light, frivolous, dark, macabre, genuine, deceitful, improvisational, or ritualized. It also, according to G. D. Wilson (1994), may be mental or physical. He notes that theatre, as an extension of fantasy, is the equivalent of mental play since mental play leads to fantasy.

Freud too suggested that creative and artistic behaviors, such as theatre, are an extension of or substitute for childhood play (Schechner, 2002).

Mental play is the act of creating complex images in our heads (G. D. Wilson, 1994). By developing these images into concrete and aesthetic art forms, we generate opportunities for physical play. Physical play melds into drama—a staged performance of a rite or ritual, which is the starting point of all social order. This raises play to a position of seriousness and reverence in our culture. Through theatrical play, an urge to create order out of chaos is triggered, and we are able to give rise to beauty through aesthetic experiences involving balance, variation, harmony, and rhythm (Huizinga, 1976). We also, according to Wilson, create dramas in order to experience fictional situations we cannot or do not experience often enough in real life.

Schechner (2002) states, “[Play] is a mood, an activity, an eruption of liberty; sometimes it is rule-bound, sometimes very free” (p. 79). According to Huizinga (1976), we need no more than the enjoyment of play to engage it. In addition, Huizinga notes that play is often seen as subordinate, even inferior to seriousness, even though play has long held a reputation for fostering exploration, learning, and creativity, qualities that are critical for many tasks and jobs.

Additionally, although play loves secrecy, it also is exhibitionistic, a paradox that Huizinga

(1976) contends gives play a multi-textured quality. Secrecy is illustrated via the human propensity to don masks and costumes and to embody animals, deities and/or humans other than us. Yet we also are loath to step out in front of others to present an image that we hope will arouse spectator admiration, and perhaps even teach something significant.

Furthermore, Huizinga (1976) suggests that we generally play not alone, but within play communities. When fellow players or spectators are present, our proclivities for play and games are heightened. Since social interactions generate rules that become binding, there is a tension that is created between and among players, a tension resulting from the requirement to play by the rules of the game despite our individual or team’s desires to win or simply to be free in play.

Play has long held a reputation for fostering deceit, risk-taking, and danger. Indeed, it sometimes takes on the characteristics of a bluff, a threat, deceit, teasing, histrionics, non-sequitur, non-play messages, or mood-signs. V. Turner (1982) calls play the joker in the deck. By this he refers to the dichotomous nature of play; it may possess both qualities of openness, value, and creativity as well as those of suspicion, excess, and deviance.

Geertz (1973), like V. Turner, discusses the dark side of play by building upon the concept of deep play, a term coined by English philosopher Jeremy Bentham. Deep play is an irrational, high risk, potentially costly, all absorbing phenomenon. It refers to one’s inclination to tease fate by engaging in an activity, such as mountain climbing or gambling that may be physically and/or emotionally dangerous.

Such activities are fun, yet highly threatening to one’s life, perhaps others’ lives. Thus, based on actual or vicarious learning, people may be motivated to seek safe players, safe spaces, and safe times when dabbling or fully engaging in such play either as a result of social peer pressures or individual compulsions.

According to Schechner (2002), dark play, on the other hand, refers to truly subversive acts whose agendas are, so to speak, to get away with murder. Dark play involves breaking rules, subverting

order, disrupting routines, and gaining immediate gratification often through deceptive and destructive means. This concept is appropriately referred to by Sutton-Smith (1997) as masks of play—activities that attempt to hide the actors and their hidden agendas.

Two other key characteristics of play include flow and reflexivity. Flow is characterized by the loss of oneself in the act of play; reflexivity refers to one’s own awareness that one is playing (Schechner,

2002, p. 81). Myerhoff (1982), like V. Turner (1976, 1982, 1986), notes that reflexivity involves showing ourselves to ourselves as well as arousing a conscious view of ourselves as others see us. This alerts us to the intrinsic meaning of our lives. Flow is autotelic, meaning there is no conscious awareness outside of the action performed, such as when an athlete is said to be “in the zone.” Schechner writes:

Flow occurs when the player becomes one with the playing. “The dance danced me.” At the

same time, flow can be an extreme self-awareness where the player has total control over the play

act. These two aspects of flow, apparently contrasting, are essentially the same. In each case, the

boundary between the interior psychological self and the performed activity dissolves. (p. 88)

Finally, Bateson (1976) notes that humans consciously recognize a play sign, whether verbal and/or nonverbal, as a signal for being in a play mood. Bateson uses the term meta-communication to refer to such communication about communication, and notes that it allows us to let others know what is in our play frame—“this is play,” “this is not play.” On the other hand, Schechner (2002) uses the term play acts to refer to units of behavior that broadcast to others that play is occurring. He adds that play acts may be arbitrary and unstructured or governed by rules that all players agree to heed. For Bateson play is a way to express aggression without really doing harm, such as a dog pretends to play bite instead of viciously biting.

Actors acting/performing on stage, like those in everyday life, must agree to act within a play frame. That is, they must act as if they are Antony or Cleopatra, while remaining fully conscious that they are not Anthony or Ceopatra. Stanislavski (1936) first stressed the importance of the “as if” in his method-acting treatise An Actor Prepares.

Regarding the social status of play, V. Turner (1982) points out that play is largely separated from work in our culture. Work, like ritual, is serious business. It is rigid and culture-bound. Play has become associated with leisure or free time. Whereas the experimentations of both artists and scientists are positively sanctioned forms of adult play in our culture, those in most other occupations still must separate their play from their work, according to Turner.

Moreover, thanks to the concept of Predestination introduced by Calvin in the 1500’s and perpetuated by Puritans and other Protestants, play was viewed as the enemy of work, as the Devil’s handiwork. Because this thinking persists in certain pockets of society today, artists continue to experience insidious prejudices due to the playful nature of their work. Nonetheless, V. Turner (1982) clarifies that leisure time for the common person is an artifact of the Industrial Revolution. The freeing up of time for leisure and play transpired as a result of automation.

Both V. Turner (1982) and Postman (1986) contend that in order to capitalize on the arts in the present era, the United States has had to conceptualize and institutionalize them as part of an entertainment business. That is, the arts no longer serve the quasi-religious or spiritual functions they once did; rather they are treated as serious businesses with distinct divisions of labor in, for example, acting and writing. Educators and business institutions alike share this vision in their missions and practices, whether training or working with professionals.

As V. Turner (1982) continues, play is associated with both freedom-from social constraints on our work time, and the freedom-to play with ideas and images in sports, entertainments, and other recreational diversions. Even though the rules and routines of leisure activities can be even greater than those of many work situations, an individual is free to choose what to do with their free time and when.

This allows individuals to creatively realize their capacities while using a multiplicity of genres and styles.

Caillois (1979) believes that societies become the games they play, since games reflect the moral and intellectual character, tastes, and ways of life in a culture. Games educate us about social norms.

Caillois further classifies games into four types, two of which are relevant here. One type consists of agon games, involving competition, such as chess or basketball. Another type refers to mimicry games or simulations, such as in theatre or children’s play.

Carse (1986) identifies two types of games. In finite games, players play to win according to a set of agreed upon rules. In infinite games, people come into the creative act of play, but prevent anyone from winning. Creativity itself is an infinite game.

For Mead (1934), play behaviors vary based on how many are present for games. Dyads learn more about themselves; groups of three or more learn about society. Since games change form and complexity over time, adults lean on manipulation strategies in order to win. Goffman (1969) sees impression management processes as different styles of games that vary over time.

Performance and Role Playing

According to Brissett and Edgley (1990), Goffman, creator of dramaturgics, uses theatre as a metaphor to describe and explain human behavior in face-to-face interactions. Goffman’s focus is on theatre-like qualities inherent in “the dramatic and expressive rituals of life, be they theatrical or not” (p.

31). He is concerned mostly with the study of behavior in public interactions, rather than in private settings or third-party public relation or mediation settings.

Goffman (1976) defines performance in everyday life as the “activity of an individual which occurs during a period marked by his continuous presence before a particular set of observers and which has some influence on observers” (p. 90). Central to this definition is the concept of a front—a mask that we select and wear in public. Many fronts are prescribed for specific social roles, but individualized acts are possible only behind a limited number of fronts. Since social reality is constructed through social interactions, and is experienced in our imaginations, we communicate strategically in order to manage others’ impressions, much like actors do in plays. By wearing masks, we increase the likelihood that others will see us as we wish. In fact, we present views of ourselves that are as good as, if not improved

versions of, who we are suppose to be, and we tend to let others know when we perform our roles well.

Thus, we can learn a lot about a book by its cover, but it may be difficult to take people at face value.

Below are two other important concepts in Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgical model. Front regions are analogous to onstage behaviors, and include both physical settings where interactions occur and personal behaviors and artifacts that become public. Back regions are off-stage behaviors occurring within locales hidden from audiences. They constitute more private places where people relax, let down their hair, and rehearse for future public performances.

Closely aligned with Goffman’s (1959) theory of self-presentation is M. Snyder’s (1987) self- monitoring theory, which focuses on how people control and regulate their public selves. Snyder’s concept is more personality oriented than Goffman’s dramaturgy, thus both admit that high self-monitors or impression managers are non-identical. However, they are similar, but by viewing high self-monitors as skilled and socially adept actors who possess Machavellian traits, such as controlling and manipulating others, both paint a rather cynical picture of human behavior. So, again, in their view, it is hard to read a book by its cover.

Mead’s (1934) work is of interest to us in terms of role playing and performing as well. Mead’s me represents other people’s attitudes and actions that have been absorbed by the self. It is a person’s thinking and reflecting self, the part of the self that is self-conscious, self-aware, and as such, constitutes the notion of the generalized other. For Mead, the generalized other is a term similar to Cooley’s (1983) forerunning notion of the looking glass self; both illustrate the unified role from which we come to see ourselves as others see us based on socially adaptive or maladaptive ways of behaving. Not only is this akin to Goffman’s (1959) concept of the front region, it also is akin to R. H. Turner’s (1980) institutionals. Rather than play themselves, institutionals prefer to act out roles with socially prescribed behaviors. Sometimes an institutional role may become so much a part of one’s identity that it spills over into one’s personal life, like a military officer who runs his/her home like an army.

On the other hand, similar to Goffman’s (1959) back region, Mead’s (1934) I represents the creative, impulsive, unpredictable performer and innovator in each of us. Divergent thinking and behaving are hallmarks of this aspect of self. Since Mead contends that as we act, we become aware of ourselves, we never really know the I but in hindsight. The I is similar to R. H. Turner’s (1980) impulsives, who prefer to play themselves. Impulsives value unique experiences, prefer their own thoughts and feelings, and find it uncomfortable to conform to others’ role requirements. These types of people are defined as artists or scientists.

Buss and Briggs (1984) note that most of us are cast into the life roles we prefer, but we still must learn to get along. Individual behavior and personality traits in Goffman’s (1959) normative model are emphasized. In particular, they are concerned with the concepts of pretense, formality, and shyness.

First, pretense is seen as ranging from extreme pretense, involving impersonation, rehearsal, and technical acting to the absence of pretense, characterized by genuine, spontaneous communication. Those with a high need for pretense are motivated to avoid presenting themselves as they really are due to public scrutiny. Conversely, those with a low need for pretense may have little or no reservations about what they self-disclose.

Second, Buss et al. (1984) state that formality ranges from preferences for rigid, ritualistic protocol to preferences for informal behavior, including candor, bluntness, and/or even breaking or ignoring rules. Propriety refers to a preference for traditional, conventional modes of interaction; politeness involves adherence to written and unwritten rules of courtesy.

Third, shyness (or stage fright) ranges from panic and strong avoidance of novelty to wariness, tension, and inhibition. Buss et al. (1984) contend that shy people are motivated to avoid rejection and ridicule. Their shyness may be precipitated at least by a fear of saying or doing the wrong things, a fear of observation and evaluation, a feeling of conspicuousness, perhaps a lack of social skills, and, in general, low status positions. Correlational research also indicates that shyness typically involves low self-esteem and above average self-consciousness.

With the introduction of Leary’s et al. (1990) model of impression motivation, dispositional factors, such as self-esteem, self-identity, and needs for approval surface in relation to Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgic model and Schlenker’s (1980) work. One’s self-esteem, or their feeling about themselves, may be affected by explicit, implicit, and/or imagined feedback from others. Essentially, people are motivated to avoid criticism, rejection, and self-deflating messages. Rather people are drawn towards self-esteem enhancing reactions, such as praise, approval, and liking. Roth, Snyder, and Pace (1986) found that, in presenting favorable self-images, high self-esteem was positively correlated with the tendency to overemphasize one’s positive attributes. However, persons high in public self-consciousness were less likely to deny their negative characteristics unrealistically. Thus, according to Roth et al.

(1986), “When it comes to scoring esteem points, therefore, a good offense may be better than a good defense” (p. 874).

Concerning self-identity, Leary et al. (1990) note that since self-identity is derived from society, people are motivated to act in ways that fulfill identity characteristics associated with social roles. This behavior, referred to as self-symbolizing, does not always involve self-presentational processes (p. 38).

However, people do enlist impression-relevant behaviors in instances where positive impressions are deemed important.

To determine one’s impression motivation, Leary et al. (1990) discuss three factors. First, the more relevant others are in helping us obtain our goals due to publicity, dependency, and future interaction, the more motivated we are to regulate how they perceive us. Second, when goals are especially valuable, due to scarcity of resources, desirable characteristics of the target, and increased value of approval, people are more motivated to regulate others’ perceptions. Third, we expect people who particularly need approval or fear disapproval to be more motivated to manage their impressions

(Leary, 1995).

Need for approval is correlated with the fear of negative evaluation, such that failure, rejection, and embarrassment increase the desire for social approval and also the motive to impression-manage

(Leary et al., 1990). Graham, Gentry, and Green (1981) found that, compared to people who imagine an appropriate emotion, those who imagine failing to display appropriate ones generally expect less reward and more punishment. In addition, females have been found to expect greater punishment than males for inappropriate affective responses. This presumably is based on stronger normative pressures for emotional expressiveness from females.

Within the attribution theory tradition, Dies (1970) found that individuals high in need for approval most often attribute blame for their failures to external factors, rather than accepting personal responsibility for them. Still such individuals seek social acceptance simultaneously through the use of attitudes complimentary to other people and/or situations.

According to social exchange theory, Jones and Tager (1972) found that as exposure to others increases, so does the importance of their evaluations of us. The more frequently we are exposed to others significant to us, the more time we spend trying to understand and express opinions we believe will receive their approval. Also the more we reciprocate others’ opinion evaluations, the more positively we feel when they agree, and the more negatively we feel when they disagree with us. In effect, those high in need for approval, perhaps due to low self-esteem and high ego defensiveness, avoid disapproval more often by acceding to others’ opinions because they presumably want or desire, not necessarily expect, approval.

Jellison and Gentry (1978) found that subjects enhanced their chances of receiving a job, regardless of whether they had to agree with something they disagreed with or not. They did what they had to do. Again, according to social exchange theory, these authors speculate that, at least in some instances, people seek social approval in order to maximize material rewards rather than because approval is inherently valuable to them. Theatre rewards may be in the form of referrals from directors and/or teachers who are pleased with actors’/performers’ work.

Regarding emotions in social science research, Goffman (1959) for one raised the position of emotions by focusing on rules for expressiveness and engagement. The primary emotions Goffman

addresses are embarrassment and shame, including fear of and/or anxiety about potential ridicule or rejection. For him these emotions trigger strategic self-presentation to meet approval needs, and motivate conformity to societal norms and pressures.

Since social order is prescribed through feelings as well as actions, Goffman (1959) talks about expressions that may be given or given off. Feelings given refer to those consciously projected in order to invite a desired response. Expressions given off refer to emotions we emit unconsciously. Practice naturally facilitates one’s ability to manipulate these feeling impressions, to come into play, and to remain in play throughout the duration of an encounter.

Hochschild (1983) uses two key terms to explain emotional management further, surface acting and deep acting. Surface acting involves the outward manifestation of feeling through appropriate speech and gesture, but it is devoid of inner sincerity. It is akin to external, presentational, or technical acting (R.

Cohen, 2001). On the other hand, deep acting is of two types. One type involves directly tapping into real feelings. The other type involves indirectly tapping into a trained imagination, which is capable of stimulating real feelings. Deep acting is akin to Stanislavski’s (1936) method acting. Here acting originates from inner emotion work initiated via such techniques as emotional recall and substitution.

Other protective strategies mentioned by Leary (1995) include protective self-presentation and self-handicapping. Rather than striving to make a good impression, protective self-presentation involves trying to avoid making a bad impression through providing as little information about oneself as possible.

Such a cautious style of communication may backfire, however, since others may respond with less liking and more discomfort (p. 190). According to Schlenker et al. (1982), people also will try to attribute their shortcomings to external factors beyond their control, such as the weather, their boss, their health, being a novice, lack of effort, lack of skills, disliking. In this way, they save face, and protect their self and public esteem.

Self-handicapping, according to Schlenker et al. (1982), is yet another self-protective strategy.

Berglas and Jones (1978) first presented this theory of self-protection. Leary (1986) notes that since

external impediments decrease anxiety, some people intentionally seek out difficult situations to cover up for their perceived inadequacies, especially when they possess low self-efficacy, high anxiety, believe that the situation is important, and that they will be evaluated. People hope that their responsibilities will be relinquished, and instead that they will gain favor from doing well in spite of such obstacles as task difficulty, effort, and external disturbances.

Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgic model of self-presentation or impression management, which is the focus of this study, does not adhere to conventional role theory. Conventional role theory emphasizes the structure of social roles and positions—that is, how people are connected to one another and to the organizations to which they belong through the statuses of the roles they play (Hess, Markson, & Stein,

1996). It starts with the social system and role structures, and then moves to the individual level of analysis. Goffman, on the other hand, is concerned with how roles distinguish people through the art and practice of role making (object oriented) and role-playing (subject oriented). Thus, he starts with the lowest level of social analysis, the dyad, and uses face-to-face interactions to glean insights into social systems and structures.

People wear many different hats throughout a life span. For Goffman (1959), playing multiple roles requires an ability to distance us from what our roles imply about us, especially since he is more interested in role deviations than conformity. For him, role distance is more prevalent than role embracement. According to Goffman, role distance is the space people place between themselves and their self-in-role (Hess et al., 1996). When we have a choice, and feel uncomfortable in a role, we caution others not to take us seriously. In this way, role distance protects us. It also offers us some freedom to express our personal preferences and style.

Additionally, Goffman (1959) wrote about a virtual self. The virtual self, also known as the possible self, is the self that society expects us to be in specific roles as a student or actor. Hess et al.

(1996) state, “Whatever our innate tendencies and abilities, each role offers an opportunity to become a

particular type of person” (p. 111). Sometimes virtual selves conflict with one’s self-image, such as when we are forced to be the youngest sister, though we are fifty.

Van Sell, Brief, and Schuler (1981) note that “role conflict is defined as incongruity of the expectations associated with a role” (p. 44). Role conflicts arise from the following:

(a) intra-sender role conflict—incompatible expectations from a single role sender; (b) inter-

sender role conflict—expectations from one role sender which are incompatible with those from

another role sender; (c) person-role conflict—incompatibility between the expectations held by

the role incumbent and the expectations otherwise associated with his/her position; (d) inter-role

conflict—role pressures stemming from one position incompatible with the role pressures arising

from a different position; and (e) role overload—expecting the role incumbent to engage in

several role behaviors, all of which may be mutually compatible in the abstract, within too short a

time period. (p. 44).

Role ambiguity, according to Van Sell et al. (1981), involves “the degree to which clear information is lacking regarding (a) the expectations associated with a role, (b) methods for fulfilling known role expectations, and/or (c) the consequences of role performance” (p. 44). Both role conflict and role ambiguity are dimensions of role stress. They state, “role ambiguity may exhibit a reciprocal causal relationship with dimensions of role conflict” (p. 44).

Van Sell et al. (1981) report that research has demonstrated the following conclusions regarding role conflict and role ambiguity. First, role conflict is noted to be correlated with lower commitment to and less confidence in a group, inadequate perceived leader behavior, slower and less accurate group performance, and lower performance evaluations, for example. Studies dealing with the effects of role ambiguity, although contradictory and occupation-specific, generally show that high role ambiguity correlates with low job satisfaction, greater concern for one’s own performance, lower actual and perceived group performance, unfavorable attitudes towards role senders, less concern for or involvement with the group, and augmented stress, tensions, anxieties, depression, and resentment, for example.

Foundations of Humor, Smiling, and Laughter

No cultures exist that do not have a vast repertoire of humorous behaviors designed to generate smiling and laughter (Caron, 2002). Phylogenetically, Caron notes, smiling and laughing are viewed as pan-cultural, adaptive phenomena that have evolved in order to help humans and primates survive in a fiercely competitive world. All smiling and laughter are generated from the kinds of playful behaviors and art forms discussed previously in this Chapter.

According to Provine (2000), humans demonstrate much greater flexibility in responding to the environment by using smiling and laughter. This is possible due to our ability to control our facial expressions and body language, and the meanings we convey through them. This also is possible, given we can meta-communicate—communicate about our communication (Bateson, 1976). Meta- communication is evidence of advanced language usage and cognitive capacities.

Even though smiling and laughter as we know them are uniquely human behaviors, Caron (2002), like others, necessarily acknowledge the evolutionary foundation of such behaviors. For example, Caron clarifies that the “silent-bared-teeth” display of higher, nonhuman primates is probably “a ritualized version of aggressive behavior that has come to function in the opposite way, as a gesture of appeasement” (p. 251). As a form of appeasement, smiling behavior helps to build group cohesion, to reinforce an attachment, and/or to indicate which individuals within a hierarchy are dominant. Smiling among primates would be useful especially to lower ranking individuals, but smiling among more advanced species also might be useful to high-ranking individuals as a non-hostility gesture. Both scenarios demonstrate how we may benefit from using smiling as a gesture of appeasement.

Smiling can be seen as aggressive as well. Caron writes, “In ethology, threat displays are described as expressions of intraspecific aggression, the result of competition among individuals of the same species” (p. 252-253). Thus, smiling may have an agonistic function, such as attacking, fighting, or escaping. Since it also may serve as an appeasement function, indicating submission or non-aggression, there is some element of ambivalence or conflict with the onset of such behaviors. This is why dogs wag

their tales upon seeing their masters; they are confused as to whether our behavior will be friendly or threatening to them.

Pollio (1983) asserts that smiling represents an upward movement of the corners of the mouth, and often of the head, which characterizes an uplifted spirit as well. This translates into the perception of a positive, light, buoyant disposition about the person smiling. Pollio writes:

If the laugh provides an experience of freedom and the smile one of lightness it is possible to see

that some smiles may represent an incomplete “breaking away” of the person from his or her

situation. Such smiles, however, must be differentiated from a second, more usual, type of smile

that functions as an invitation to interact. This second type of smile may range from a bonding

smile between infant and caretaker, to a seductive smile between consenting adults, to a smile of

entreaty (or appeasement) between individuals of unequal rank or power. (p. 221)

Definition of Humorous, Fun-Of, Fun, Funny, and Amusing Phenomena

Several terms within humor research warrant clarification. First, humorology, a term coined by

Apte (1983), refers to the multi-disciplinary nature of research on humor, laughter, and comic phenomena. It also identifies the multiple methods and theories generated by such fields as anthropology and sociolinguistics. Second, “The Comic,” a term used by Caron (2002), refers to research on comic situations and artifacts. Taken together, humorous or comic phenomena are not to be confused with independent research on the sub-categories of smiling and laughter.

Oring (1995) states that “the peculiarly human quality of ‘humor’ is hard to pin down” (p. 230).

Nonetheless, there is rhyme and reason to humor, though it is often viewed as mysterious. Sometimes one has to “be there” in order to appreciate it. Also if you are half listening, you will miss it. Pollio

(1983) stresses that humor is more than mental commitment by saying, “In short, ‘being there’ implies a field theory of humor that pays full attention to the laughing/smiling person in the full, rich context of his or her contemporary first-person world” (p. 228).

Chapman et al. (1996) note that there is reticence even outside of academia to define what humor and laughter are, presumably because everyone thinks he knows. Also this problem of definition is compounded by a lack of clarity as to whether humor should be viewed as a stimulus, a response, or a disposition. Further, since humor and laughter are experienced independently, they often are studied and theories about each formed separately. Thus, few attempts at global theories have gained any widespread acceptance. Perhaps none ever will due to the vast individual differences and contexts within which humor and laughter arise.

Rather maybe the best way to define humor is according to leading theories that attempt to describe it. One of the oldest theories is known as the superiority theory of laughter and humor.

According to Wolf (2002), in trying to be humorous, Hobbes noted that people go through the following general process: they do something that pleases them, and suddenly laugh at themselves; or they note a deformity in others, and make fun of it through a comparison to themselves; the comparison makes them feel better about themselves, even superior to the other, and they laugh. Hobbes referred to the result of this process as one of sudden glory, according to Pollio (1983). Sudden glory, based on gradual or sudden victory over an opponent, results in laughter and/or smiling that may be large and expansive or small and subtle.

La Fave, Haddad, and Maesen (1996) attempt to explain some of the inconsistencies in the aggression-and-humor literature, and account for the amusement produced by superiority humor. The result is a boost to our self-esteem. In specific, the authors propose that a sufficient theory of humor should involve “a (1) sudden (2) happiness increment (such as a feeling of superiority or heightened self- esteem) as a consequence of a (3) perceived incongruity” (p. 89).

Wolf (2002) continues to note that a person being laughed at may request a distant relationship to maintain good standing and protect him/herself from hurtful humorous responses. Being laughed at often is viewed as disparagement humor, but may be viewed, as noted by Gruner (1997), as a response to innocent win-lose/one-up and one-down humor as well.

Wolf (2002) claims that the perception of what is humorous and what is offensive is subjective.

He adds, “We generally find ridicule unpleasant and unwelcome when directed towards us, and empathy leads most of us to see others in the same light” (p. 331). However, some evidence attests to the need for certain people to be the butt of such jokes. Wolf continues, even disparagement humor with its tinge of superiority, can represent a congenial form of humor. It is human nature to point up others’ deviations from norms, even our own. By fostering shame through public ridicule, we compel the joke’s target person (the outsider) to correct his/her infraction. We also can affirm our own good standing, and build group cohesion among those of us of the same status (insiders). In this way, superiority humor encourages conformity and solidarity.

People who have high needs to conform are swift self-corrector, according to Wolf (2002). He writes, “We mock you, you concede the point by laughing along, we take it back and all is forgiven.

Thus, a measure of trust is involved in the process” (p. 337). Self-deprecating or self-effacing humor, teasing, and disparagement humor may allow us to show off our ability to take a joke, to play along, to laugh at ourselves. In this way, we convey acceptance of our shortcoming(s) and our willingness to be corrected. Further, we can make fun of the social world in which we live without repercussions, thereby not exempting it from reflexive ridicule.

Denunciative forms of humor differ from congenial forms in that after the joke is made, no one attempts to take it back (Wolf, 2002). The point made is viewed as serious, and insiders believe that it deserves to be ridiculed based on its moral or rational ineptitude. Outsiders, in such instances, are not permitted to make fun of the same characteristics. Vastly differing perceptions of what is funny means that people set individual boundaries for humor. On the other hand, socio-political institutions and laws set some of our boundaries for us.

Fun-of humor, according to Podilchak (1992), points up the social inequalities between or among individuals or groups relative to their socio-political power positions. It is a denunciative or

disparagement form of humor that people do not take back. This type of humor is commonly referred to as “making fun of” others, usually others of inferior status to us.

Teasing, likewise, has a negative connotation, but unlike fun-of or denunciative humor, it may be viewed positively. Teasing has a dual nature, whereby it may be viewed as an act of aggression or as humor or play. It may threaten one’s identity, damage relationships, and/or embarrass us; or it may lessen social distance, build rapport, and/or increase social attractiveness (Alberts, Kellar-Guenther, & Corman,

1996). When the humorous intent is perceived to be positive, which is most frequently the case, people respond positively. However, people respond negatively when they perceive a serious intent behind another’s teasing.

Zillmann and Cantor (1996) propose a disposition theory of humor and mirth that accounts for contemporary findings on humor appreciation and dramatic presentations. First, they propose that disparagement humor is positively sanctioned in social settings if it can be attributed to the joke work involved. The authors write, “All of these things save us from a moral dilemma and permit us to be malicious with dignity” (p. 110). Second, disparaging humor in dramatic presentations can be enjoyed if the show’s story, plot, and techniques warrant it. Otherwise, we have no excuse for a mirthful response in the face of another’s misfortunes. We would have trouble explaining this to ourselves, and would be socially condemned by others.

Intellectual maturation keeps us from loosely laughing at misfortunes. Humor is a more complex affair. Zillmann et al. (1996) write that “humour is the result of an appraisal process in which the individual can explain his mirthful behaviour to himself as fully or partly caused by stimuli which are considered funny in his cultural environment” (p. 111). In sum, Zillmann et al. assert that if something bad happens to a person whom we dislike, this should please us, whether what happens may be considered humorous or not. Conversely, if something bad happens to someone we like or are neutral about, this should displease or sadden us.

Schrempp (1995) explores another aspect of Oring’s work on humor—appropriate incongruity.

Appropriate incongruity assumes our recognition of an imperfect world, such that imperfection is appropriate or correct in the face of incongruities. For example, he notes that such an oxymoron is present in the ancient Christian doctrine that the morally mixed outcome of original sin is a felix culpa or happy fault—an appropriate incongruity.

However, Oring himself (1995) notes that appropriate incongruity is meant more as a characterization than a definition. Humor is a perception. It is a psychological rather than a logical problem. As Oring states, humor requires three things: emotional distance, a perception of the spurious as opposed to the substantive, and elements of tempo or timing in telling a joke. More specifically, he emphasizes that myth and philosophy are founded on the possibility of genuine and substantive relationships; humor recognizes surprisingly spurious relations (p. 229).

A more contemporary, flexible, and wide-ranging theory of humor deals with how we experience amusement through the use of incongruities. Morreall (1987) notes that human infants not only respond to novel and incongruous situations by smiling and laughing, but they will take steps to recreate such phenomena for the sole purpose of re-experiencing such pleasure.

Novelty is a kind of newness with a twist, a surprise, for children. For adults it occurs whenever utterly new and unexpected phenomena occur. Incongruity occurs when the prior experiences of mature people are violated. The instrumentality of laughter and play in children encourages their cognitive development through exploration of the environment, but in adults laugher is devoid of such instrumentality. It simply demonstrates our amusement with intellectual phenomena.

For Schultz (1996), “incongruity alone is insufficient to account for the structure of humour” (p.

12). There must also be a resolution for explaining the meaning of humor or jokes. Regarding his incongruity-resolution approach, Schultz cites Freud’s three stages in the development of joking. First comes the ability to appreciate a joke for its incongruity without the need for resolution. Children deal with ambiguity such as this well. However, due to social pressures for children to make logical sense out

of what they say and hear, they secondly grow to employ “joke techniques” in what Freud calls their

“jesting” (p. 17). Joke techniques are resolution techniques that help us provide meaningful interpretations for jokes. Such interpretations explain a joke, thereby reducing its ambiguity. Third, the content rather than the structure of humor changes such that a person’s joking can now serve the tendentious function of expressing aggressive and/or sexual motives, and as such, represents an adult form of humor.

O’Connell (1996) notes further that Freud made a useful distinction between wit and humor. For

Freud wit is a verbal phenomenon that is geared to help individuals indirectly release hostile or sexual urges. Humor, on the other hand, uses an uplifting form of jesting in order to make light of life’s stressors. For Freud, both wit and humor produce pleasure that is the result of a “triumph of the ego, the pleasure principle, and narcissism over real adverse conditions under which the person refused to suffer.

The severity of the situation itself was not repressed, rather the superego behaved toward the ego in a loving and playful manner” (p. 315). O’Connell maintains that this humanistic view takes the positive functions of humor—joy, closeness, trust, and esteem – as seriously as its superior, disparaging, and controlling functions.

Pollio (1983) states that puzzlement is the first reaction one has to a joke followed by a resolution of some sort, even if it is an acknowledgement that no reasonable resolution is possible. Pollio notes that cognitive theories focus largely on incongruities and their resolutions as mental acts. They tend to ignore a person’s total, embodied response to a situation.

Ruch and Hehl (1998) note that individuals who are open to experience tend to prefer humor that has an unresolved incongruity whereas individuals who are closed to experience prefer resolved incongruity. Closed persons also are seen as conservative, authoritarian, generally inhibited, conforming, possessing a high need for order, a low interest in aesthetics, and a low tolerance for complexity. They avoid uncertainty, and are characterized by older age. Open persons, on the other hand, are tolerant of nonsense. Such individuals are characterized by sensation seeking, non-conventional and nonconforming

values, higher intelligence, uncertainty-seeking, and younger age. Openness—in particular openness to fantasy, actions, and values—also affects the production and use of humor in creative ways.

Amusement is akin to what Podilchak (1992) calls fun. It relies on such variables as surprise, novelty, strangeness, ambiguity, and incongruity to elicit laughter, according to Zillmann (1983). Having fun is a reciprocal, conciliatory set of behaviors aimed at eliciting laughter and/or a great deal of smiling.

Podilchak defines it as follows: “Fun is a social, interactional, and social organizing form wherein and through which individuals intentionally deconstruct social inequalities to produce a with-equal-other social-human bond of equality” (p. 382). Fun allows us to level the playing field and to be ourselves whether with an authority figure or not. However, fun is more likely to be experienced among friends. In all relationships it is interactive, and often includes leisure or play activities. It is perhaps an excuse to be humorous, a reason to discharge psychic energy, and a source of pleasure. Indeed, fun actions may range from positive and frivolous to negative and biased. Because fun activity is harder to pull off socially, it also is more problematic to study.

Fun has not been empirically separated from funny and fun-of humor. That is, according to

Podilchak (1992), funny and fun-of humor are seen as two ends of a continuum. Fun behaviors probably fall between the two. To be funny means that participants reframe something temporarily in a way that stimulates others’ laughter. Podilchak writes: “Social inequalities have been temporarily neutralized by the invocation and action of the humor instigator, yet quickly the pre-humorous social frame is reestablished by a socially challenged actor in his or her denial and questioning of the instigator’s action”

(p. 377).

Stress and Humor

Since Norman Cousins’ 1979 publication of An Anatomy of an Illness as Perceived by the

Patient, the general public as well as professionals have been favorably inclined to regard the beneficial effects of laughter on one’s health. Laughter reduces tension and enhances health and immunology.

Cousins literally overcame a debilitating disease called ankylosing spondilitis by taking vitamin C and laughing at a storehouse of comedic movies and television reruns.

As Cousins, White and Winzelberg (1992) point out, although studies on laughter and physiological states have produced contradictory results, tension reduction seems to be a universal function of laughter. In a study conducted by these authors, it was found that laughter helped to reduce psychological anxiety, and to boost the human immune system, thereby helping to fight off both physical and psychological ailments.

According to Lefcourt (2000), Cannon was one of the first to discuss the effects of stressors on an organism. Indeed, people who cope well with stress are said by Lefcourt to possess the following traits: they avoid experiencing negative emotions for any length of time, and they strive to minimize and replace negative affects, such as anxiety and/or depression, with new pursuits generating more positive emotions, such as the use of humor.

Robinson (1983) notes that stress can be augmented by many factors, including illnesses or disabilities. Based on the works of Freud, Levine, and Fine, she writes, “When an anxiety level is too high, humor may ‘fall flat’ or not occur until the crisis has passed or the anxiety has reached a moderate level” (116). Thus, when stress is high, humor desists; when stress is moderate or low, humor ensues.

Martin et al. (1983) demonstrate that the less stress one experiences, the more one laughs and smiles. The greater the stress one feels, the less he or she engages in such behaviors. Those who highly value humor tend to employ it as a coping mechanism. In fact, humor becomes the moderator between a recent life event and one’s mood. The more one engages in humor, the more positive his or her affect and vise versa.

Lefcourt (1998) suggests that humor is linked to both emotion-focused and problem-focused coping strategies. Emotion-focused coping involves managing our emotions in response to events that generally have transpired already. Problem-focused coping involves using our actions to generate strategies for managing our stress.

Martin, Kuiper et al. (1993) add a third strategy called appraisal-focused coping that involves objectively using cognitive strategies to interpret life events. The more positive an appraisal, the more challenging it is seen, and the less stress we feel; conversely, the more negative the appraisal, the more threatening it is viewed, and the more stress we experience.

Using Lefcourt’s (1998) claim that humor is linked to emotion- and problem-focused coping,

Abel’s (2002) research concluded that, as predicted, individuals with a high sense of humor reported less stress and anxiety, and were more likely to use positive reappraisal and problem-coping strategies. Those with a low sense of humor experienced greater stress and anxiety, even in the face of a low to average number of daily problems.

In addition, Abel (2002) found that role distance helped individuals to mediate their personal feelings and actions. Distancing oneself from stressors involves a cognitive-affective shift away from notions about aggressive confrontations and negative affect toward problem-solving and positive affect.

In this context, humor serves to restructure a situation and to support people by helping them adopt coping strategies for stress. Again, those with a high sense of humor are more likely to engage in role distance, given humor is the catalyst to it. Further, those with a good sense of humor are more likely to realistically and accurately appraise the degree of stress in their lives than their counterparts. Abel notes also that those with a poor sense of humor “are more predisposed to psychologically experience greater stress regardless of the number of stressful life events, a characteristic of neuroticism” (p. 377).

Abel (1998) also found, as Cann, Holt, and Calhoun (1999) did, that humor has a buffering effect on the physical symptoms of stress for both men and women. However, Abel notes that women reveal more stress-related symptoms than men. Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001) also notes that an interesting correlation has been found between humor and positive reframing. Positive reframing is seen as a defense mechanism similar to role distancing. It involves a perceptual adjustment directed toward a more positive view of an event, regardless of the unpleasant nature of it. Cann et al. also note that by counteracting negative thinking, humor leads to laughter, reduces tension, and activates the immune system.

Another study conducted by Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001) uncovered insights into perspective-taking humor. Specifically, subjects were asked to fill out a death certificate, and to write both a eulogy and a will for themselves in order to help them face their own mortality. Most subjects reported increased mood disturbance—depression, anger, confusion, and/or tension—following these exercises. Exceptions were those who scored high on the perspective-taking measure and who emotionally changed very little, if at all. Perspective-taking humor may allow one to distance oneself from personal identities enough to comprehend and appreciate the realities of differing life events. Lefcourt also notes that such humor indicates a predisposition to not take oneself seriously. By not taking oneself overly seriously, one is able to face mortality without becoming morbid and, therefore, to avoid stress.

Derks (1996) notes further that laughter is generated based on one’s locus of control. If a person’s locus of control is internal rather than external, they are more prone to engage in social and affiliative laughter. Such individuals also laugh with warmth and facial expressions including wide eyes and visible teeth plus a body posture leaning toward the experimenter. They laugh at obscene jokes for some tension relief, and tend to use challenging looks at the same time. Those with an external locus of control have been found to laugh at explicitly sexual double entendres, but in ways indicative of tension relief only.

Criticism, Competition, Conflicts, and Humor

According to Gruner (1997), if it were not for competition and conflict, our social lives today in the United States would be filled with very little entertainment. All we have to do is watch a film or the television or pick up a newspaper or magazine to witness all degrees of competition and conflict. This is tied to what Gruner refers to as a gaming spirit; he writes “the competitive spirit inherent in Man most powerfully urged him to engage in contests” (p. 35).

Humans, Gruner (1997) further claims, are at our very nature acquisitive, competitive, and explorative. In going after what we want, we must compete with others, our own shortcomings, and our

environments. As general balance theory proposes, we cannot exist in a perpetual state of conflict, however; we must resolve them in order to reinstate homeostasis (Littlejohn, 2002).

G. D. Wilson (1994) continues to point out that since conflicts can occur due to suppressed or frustrated feelings, airing them is key to returning our psyches to homeostasis. Thus, humor becomes a socially acceptable forum for releasing taboo impulses, such as sexual and/or aggressive thoughts, and offsetting destructive conflicts. In psychoanalytic terms, it allows us to cleanse ourselves of repressed childhood experiences and pave the way to a healthier, more adaptive future. Catharsis in humor research deals with the ability of individuals to release aggressive and sexual urges that otherwise might lead to some sort of deviant behavior.

G. D. Wilson (1994) notes too that social frustrations often are vented in the form of social satires designed to ridicule social, political, and economic systems and individuals. Satires further humanize people, just as they by times support the status quo rather than aim to change it by relieving tensions or concerns about social systems.

Gruner (1997) continues, an ambiguous resolution leads to frustration and ambivalence. An unsatisfactory resolution leads to a sense of loss, and eventually either sorrow or disappointment, sour grapes, or a pledge to do better. A satisfactory resolution results in winning. If our winning is gradual, we may feel secure, relaxed, pleased. If it is sudden, we will feel a rush of pleasure and excitement accompanied by laughter.

According to G. D. Wilson (1994), smiling and laughter help moderate and offset criticisms, conflicts, and competition. Since aggressive behaviors are not permitted in our society, we learn to use humor for a direct release of our frustrations and indirect satisfaction from victimizing our enemies.

Humor combines smiling and laughter to relieve tensions quickly. Such a simultaneous juxtaposition of cues eases our anxieties or fears with a sense of safety. Perhaps a taboo is trivialized, an authority is humanized, and a criticism is softened.

According to G. D. Wilson (1994), Freud divided jokes into two parts: libidinous material and techniques (p. 118). The content of jokes consists of libidinous material—repressed sexual and aggressive tendencies. Jokes vary in how much libidinous versus formal content they possess. Some are considered crude or sick. Others are merely amusing or intellectually tickling. Yet others may be powered by emotions such as shame, grief, fear, and curiosity. Techniques refer to formal structures for telling jokes, and provide social excuses for unleashing taboo feelings, thereby helping us cope with criticisms, competition, and conflicts.

We help ourselves to cope with the fears and anxieties associated with competition and criticisms by using humor as a defense mechanism. According to G. D. Wilson (1994), we can do this by directly making fun of things we fear. We might employ a type of defensive humor in the face of some negative case scenario, or we also may engage in self-deprecating humor aimed at diminishing the consequences of what happens to us in others’ eyes as well as our own.

If we become pent up or frustrated intellectually, intellectual play is a way to provide us with

“momentary freedom from the tyranny of logical thought” (G. D. Wilson, 1994). Here we indulge our creativity, originality, and inventiveness.

Gruner (1997) notes that certain forms of humor aimed at releasing our aggressive tendencies, such as sick, obscene, scatological, offensive, destructive, death-related, or insulting humor, undergo censorship from media and other formal modes of communication. Even though we may use euphemisms to speak about negative elements of life, people need to express their real feelings about death, deformity, decay, disasters, and the like. Humor helps us do this. As Gruner writes, “Only within the ‘play frame’ of the joke or riddle can we ‘let it all hang out’ and laugh at the ‘unfunny’ and the unspeakable” (p. 46).

Gruner (1997) further notes that laughing at the unspeakable allows us to express and enjoy our primitive urges for violence, gore, and destruction. It may be childish play aimed at helping us reduce adult stressors. Even “slapstick” sets up a contest within which someone wins and someone loses.

Slapstick then is readily a “practical joke,” a low form of humor or comedy.

Sexual humor, like all humor, involves a win-lose relationship. Only the content is different

(Gruner, 1997). Dirty jokes are some of the most hostile and aggressive that exist. They also are among the most entertaining. Because our culture has romanticized sex to be an inherent part of romantic love, it has socially disapproved of nice girls thinking about sex within a powerful and aggressive framework.

Nonetheless, a variety of studies show that when subjects are made angry by experimenters, they turn around and rate sexual humor higher than other forms of humor and than non-angry subjects (e.g. Prerost,

1976). Following Gruner’s theory that laughter results from winning, an angered person might delight in one of the sexes losing to the other, regardless of the type of sexual humor.

Regarding puns, Gruner (1997) asserts that they may be viewed as an art form involving study, observation, skill, beauty, and creativity. As in any art, only a few practitioners can be expected to shine.

In fact, Gruner notes that puns present a love-hate relationship for most people. Punning is a talent that not everyone possesses, thus sometimes people who are the targets feel victimized and/or agonized by the punster. According to Gruner, a groan is the result of a bad pun—that is, one that requires effort to figure out, but is deemed unworthy once it is. So why would people utilize them except to show off how clever and intelligent they are? Since the audience is the first and only individuals to hear a pun, Gruner notes that they often become the butt of the pun. By characterizing an audience as stupid and the instigator as superior, a punster may become an aggressor.

Freud, in attempting to make a case for innocent humor, argued, according to Gruner (1997), that innocent humor consists of jests that frequently are nothing more than attempts to show off, to display oneself, even to exhibit oneself sexually. To Gruner, this remains within the province of superiority theory, demonstrating verbal if not physical superiority over others. Nevertheless, innocent humor may envelope clever verbal gymnastics, children tickling or playing peekaboo, laughing at one’s own blunders, simple incongruities, such as Morreall’s (1983) bowling ball found in his refrigerator, certain forms of nonsense, and comic mimicry. Even humor that flirts with stupidity, self-pride, and sex may

have innocent overtones, but still also possess competitive elements. Thus, Gruner challenges any of us to prove him wrong in concluding that all humor involves a winner and a loser.

Many sociologists, including Fine (1983), agree that humor serves two key functions. First, social conflict occurs through humor that is designed to relieve aggressions and separate us from undesirable, deviant out-groups. Satire is one form of conflict humor designed to anger opposing groups; irony, sarcasm, parody, burlesque, and caricature are yet other forms. Second, humor serves to exercise social control by encouraging acceptance of group norms and discouraging deviance through ridicule.

This humor suggests that in-group values are esteemed and out-group values are disparaged. Though in- group humor relieves public aggressions, it may either reduce or increase conflicts with out-groups. At least, as Fine writes, “Such humor can signify that certain behaviors are acceptable and that other are taboo without ever directly saying so and thus without risking direct rebuke” (p. 175).

Socializing and Humor

Humorous or joking relationships have been studied in various sociological and anthropological contexts. Fine (1983) notes that without social or cultural forces jokes would be impossible. He writes,

“Most sociologists of humor agree with LaFave et al. (1976) that jokes only become jokes because of the social responses to them” (p. 176). Humor would make no sense without a social referent, even though humor also possesses psychological, linguistic, aesthetic, anthropological, historical, and even physiological dimensions of influence.

Furthermore, the power of humor and jokes should not be underestimated. Generally speaking,

Robinson (1983) notes that many authors, including Bergson, Stephenson, and Boskin, have advocated for decades that humor has the potential to advocate social change and reform. Humor mirrors societal values, needs, fears and anxieties, and thus enables people to clarify problems and toward resolutions.

Below is research that illuminates relevant aspects of humor literature related to (a) interpersonal and intrapersonal relationships and (b) group dynamics. Provine (2000) suggests that social relations may be

cultivated by designing environments for increasing humor and laughter. Other research points to environmental factors that extinguish humor.

Interpersonal and Intrapersonal Relationships

Humor, along with resultant smiling and laughter, may be viewed as a humanistic means of communicating with others. As Chapman (1983) notes, one thing that is clear from social psychological research on humor is that “humor and laughter are linked to communication” (p. 149). In most any setting, humor allows individuals to engage in open, empathic, assertive interactions as opposed to emotionally closed, distant, non-confrontational ones. Importantly, humor also allows individuals to engage in indirect forms of communication that help them express emotionally charged messages quickly and acceptably. This is especially useful when people do not know each other well, but the reason for their relationship calls for at least a modicum of trust and cooperation. Humor, in such instances, serves not only to build cohesiveness, but also allows for trial balloons and face-saving.

Pollio and Edgerly (1996) note, “the social event of humour allows for the cathartic release of aggressions, hostilities and taboos and provides for a positive-public affirmation that such activities are acceptable providing an appropriate balance is maintained” (p. 241). Balance is part of the province of the comic’s artistry, the authors claim, whether the comic is a witty or humorous person or a performer of comedy, such as a clown or comedian. Humor adds balance.

Robinson (1983) also views humor as “an adaptive, coping behavior, as a catharsis for and relief of tension, as a defense against depression, as a sign of emotional maturity, and as a survival mechanism”

(p. 111). In this light, humor that is designed to foster healing relationships has little room for negative or disparaging tones. However, self-deprecating humor allows people to distance themselves from their own problems, whether they relate to behavioral or bodily dysfunctions. It allows us to vent our frustrations acceptably, and thereby to gain perspective. It helps us to foster social approval and to maintain social solidarity, to restrain disruptive behaviors, and to alleviate negative emotions and stress. Overall, humor is seen as social glue, a safety valve, and a healing balm.

Nezlek and Derks (2001) tested humorous people and how their humor affected the quality of their interpersonal encounters. It was discovered that people with a great sense of humor who frequently used humor as a coping mechanism tended to enjoy spending time with others, presumably because they felt confident in interactions and found their relationships pleasurable. The converse was true for people whose sense of humor was low, and who infrequently used humor as a coping mechanism in social interactions.

Interestingly too, by studying college students, R. H. Turner (1980) found that high self- monitoring students were more likely to make humorous remarks, more adept at creating humor on demand, and more likely to be rated funny by their peers. Bell, McGhee, and Duffey (1986) further found that high self-monitoring college students rated themselves as frequent initiators of humor. Thus, high self-monitoring of one’s expressive behaviors is a strong predictor of humor usage. Lefcourt (2001) added that high self-monitors also engage in a greater degree of activity and assertiveness, and are said to be more approach rather than avoidance oriented.

Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001) notes that using humor as a coping strategy has been associated with the attainment of greater social support. In social encounters, Duchenne laughers—or hearty laughers who use their mouths, eyes, foreheads, and whole faces when they laugh—are judged as happier, more attractive, amusing, well adjusted, and less frustrating with which to interact. On the other hand, non- laughers may manage to generate compassion still, but fail to enjoy the bounteous interpersonal and group benefits of Duchenne laughing. Negative emotions, such as anger, fear, grief, or tension, may show through non-laughers’ facial expressions and body language, thus unmask their true feelings.

In addition, extraversion has been shown, according to Derks (1996), to contribute to one’s overall inclination to locate humor in situations and to laugh more often and more robustly than introverts, which ultimately contributes to an overall greater enjoyment in life. He reports that extraverts tend to prefer sexual and aggressive humor, and humor that fits their personalities. Individual differences and types of laughter both need further exploration.

Regarding one’s self-development, Martin, Kuiper et al. (1993) have found that humor is associated with the following aspects of self. First, humor is associated with a positive self-concept. This is true for those who rate themselves as having a low actual-to-ideal discrepancy and as having realistic and rational evaluations of self-esteem and self-worth. Second, people are better able to employ humor when they are adept at enacting more positive and self-protective cognitive appraisals in the face of stressful life events. Third, humor is associated with people who experience greater positive affect whether life events are positive or negative. The enjoyment of life experiences seems to be related not only to satisfactory use of coping strategies to insulate oneself from life’s stressors, but to one’s outlook on or orientation to life.

Graham (1995) explores how uncertainty reduction theory (URT), as noted by Berger (1987) and

Berger and Calabrese (1975), is applied to the development of social relationships and humor. According to URT, individuals are motivated to reduce uncertainty early in their relational development. This need for uncertainty reduction is coupled with a need for positive outcomes. Sunnafrank (1986, 1988, 1990) calls the need for positive outcomes predicted outcome value theory (POV). Generally speaking, uncertainty reduction is a clearly positive relational outcome, thus URT and POV may be viewed as complimentary explanations for people’s communication behaviors in initial interactions. Humor’s fun, amusement, enjoyment, and pleasure are highly effective techniques for maximizing positive outcomes and reducing relational uncertainty. Thus, those who joke together tend to negotiate relational identities and boundaries more effectively. In addition, humor helps people to self-disclose, to reduce anxieties, and to test their similarity of experience, attitude, and skill through safe, low risk communication – all well documented elements of healthy relational development.

Graham (1995) further found that people view those with a high sense of humor as reducing significantly more uncertainty in conversational settings during initial interactions. They also view those with a high sense of humor as reducing significantly more social distance. As uncertainty and social distance are reduced, people learn more about each other. This often leads to greater comfort between

and among people, but greater knowledge of each other may not only lead to positive, but also negative evaluations. Similarly, some people may refuse to engage in humorous dialogue and/or to take a joke, and thus, fail to join a relationship.

Swartz (1995) further notes that affiliative humor helps people to develop relationships.

Affiliative humor consists of harmless wit and nonsense; the opposite of this is tendentious wit, which separates, differentiates, and distances people from one another. Liking and attractiveness result from perceived similarity, and increase due to affiliative humor. Such humor improves our social interactions by facilitating connectedness, inviting conversations, reducing social distance, and building common ground. Additionally, it is a symbolic means of creating and sharing meaning through both affective and cognitive as well as implicit and explicit levels of communication. Risky information may be revealed via our humor, relational boundaries may be set and honored, and perspective may help us save face and reduce offensiveness.

Fine (1983) discusses four specific types of roles related to humor in the United States: the fool, the clown, the joker, and the comedian. The latter two are relevant to this research. The wit or joker is intellectually keen, and quick to come up with a witty or sarcastic remark in most situations. Per Fine, he/she is usually a high status group member with a distinct type of personality characterized by animation and dominance. The sarcastic wit usually has more group influence than the clowning wit, perhaps because they are able to place ideas on the table for discussion. As such, groups with a clearly demarcated role for a wit and joker do better at solving problems than groups without such people.

Overall, jokers or wits temporarily ease a group’s stress from competition and conflicts, and enable people to build group cohesion.

According to Fine (1983), a comedian is a professional humorist who entertains an audience with verbal and/or nonverbal humor. Comedians must be concerned with impression management in order to get audiences to laugh. In other words, they must be adept at meta-communication to help audiences follow sophisticated levels of humor. Males tend to focus on attacking audiences whereas females tend to

deride themselves in an effort to win an audience over. The less successful the comedian, the more likely they are to engage in burlesque comedy, depicting sexual deviants or involving sex shows.

It is worth noting Pollio’s (1983) suggestion that socially we love comedians, but also undervalue them. For one, society treasures comedians because they free us from the social constraints of a polite society by releasing our innermost secrets and tensions. However, because the comedian’s effect is brief, short-lived, and non-pragmatic, we undervalue them. Further, the spirit of fun which comedians exude often comes from affiliations with minority groups and/or life’s hardships. For this they are largely less effective with and less rewarded by the public.

Group Dynamics

Chapman (1983) uncovers insights into pecking orders with regard to who initiates and becomes the target of humor, and how much laughter group members may exhibit. The group clown normally is not a group’s leader, but rather a male who enjoys popularity and affection from others. In addition, the more cognitively similar and the more familiar group members are, the more frequently they create and generate laughter. Humor can be used also to test the status of a relationship and to aid in the transition from one group stage of development to another.

Pollio (1983) notes that Bergson claims that humor serves an educational function—to correct humans’ tendency toward “mechanical masquerading as the living” (p. 219). Humor leads to laughter that corrects our tendencies to become rigid and inflexible. Moreover, it is liberating and transforming to break up a person’s psycho-emotional frames of reference and physiological functions. As such, humor and laughter foster freedom—freedom from personal and social constraints, such as “conformity, inferiority, normality, rationality, naivete, egotism, and so forth—that serve to limit his or her freedom”

(pp. 215-216).

In-group members can enhance their group’s morale and solidarity through the use of humor,

Chapman further notes (1983). They also can increase the in-group’s antagonism toward outsiders. Even outsiders have been observed using the same jokes to reciprocate aggressions toward in-group members.

Indeed, as noted by Martineau (1972), humor can either help or hinder social interactions just as inter- group humor can occur within the group as a whole or within subgroups of the larger group. If the humor is positive, it encourages integration; if it is disparaging, it encourages disintegration with larger group members.

Additionally, each group has a unique history and culture, according to Chapman (1983). Fine

(1983) coins the word idioculture to refer to the localized culture of a group and its shared system of knowledge, beliefs, values, attitudes, and behaviors. An idioculture may have a language of its own within which a humorous remark becomes characteristic of a group, or it simply may represent who used humor, how, and/or why. In the former case, a humorous remark becomes comprehensible to the whole group first. Second, the remark is repeatable without offending others or breaching norms whether it is used within or outside of the group. Third, the humorous remark must support group goals for social support or control. Fourth, the remark must be in harmony with power relations and friendships within the group. Finally, the humorous remark may trigger the group to use it often in ways that characterize the group.

Also according to Fine (1983), people identify with groups to which they do not belong as long as they are perceived as similar to groups to which they do belong. In addition, La Fave’s (1972) vicarious superiority theory holds that those who belong to a reference group find its humor funny if the in-group is esteemed and the out-group is disparaged, but not funny in the converse situation. They also prefer jokes that esteem a reference group over those that esteem a non-reference group. Further, people exercise perceptual selectivity such that they perceive negative humor as related to groups they dislike and positive humor as related to those they like.

In social settings, Provine (2000) and Pollio et al. (1996) note that males primarily are joksters who initiate laughter, and females are the actual laughers and consumers of humor. Provine notes that differences in humor usage may be due to traditional gender roles: males are the initiators and

dominators; females are compliant, appeasing, and submissive. He continues to note that shifts in power statuses may shift laugh patterns for each gender.

Provine (2000) also conducted an extensive survey of newspaper personal ads for dates for both males and females. Whereas males were found to focus on females’ physical characteristics, females were found to focus on psychological or personality traits, such as care, intelligence, maturity, and humor.

Provine reported: “Women seek men who make them laugh, and men are anxious to comply with this request” (p. 34). Overall, Provine said, “the laughter of the female, not the male, is the critical positive index of a healthy relationship” (p. 35).

In addition, Pollio et al. (1996) assert that whereas strangers are able to inhibit laughter and often do, friends support one another in humorous encounters by laughing at one another. Provine supports this by stating that the longer we know people, the more likely we are to engage in humor and laughter. Pollio et al. further emphasize that group cohesion, in particular, is essential for determining who laughs, at what, when, and where. Generally, cohesion is based on similarity; the more cohesive a group is, the more likely they are to laugh at one another.

G. D. Wilson (1994) notes that humor functions to build cohesion via the consolidation of group membership through what he calls the “private language of the in-group” (p. 120). When others share our thinking, feelings, prejudices, problems, and experiences, we derive pleasure from their humor because they reinforce group norms. Those who deviate either are chided into coming back into the fold, or they likely are shunned through cruel mockery and ridicule.

Lorenz (1976) notes that group rituals help to separate one group from another, and in essence, to build group cohesion. This is accomplished, contends Lorenz, by inhibiting aggression and encouraging the formation of bonds between and among group members. Mannerisms, civilized and strictly obeyed norms for how to act politely amongst others, serve to keep conciliation and/or social cohesion high.

Violators are negatively sanctioned.

Coser, as reported by Provine (2000), found that humor flows downwardly from the top to the bottom of status hierarchies. Psychiatrists in a psychiatric hospital were found to engage in the most humor, which they directed most often to their residents. Junior staff members did most of the talking at meetings, but failed to reciprocate humor up the status hierarchy. Rather they directed their witticisms toward their patients or themselves. This same pattern occurred among lower-ranking psychologists, social workers, and sociologists at the hospital. Even the paramedical staff refrained from making fun of higher-ranking co-workers. Instead they joked very little. However, though males and females were rather evenly distributed per rank, males contributed ninety-six percent of the witticisms. Women served as avid laughers.

Moreover, joking relationships have been studied in various sociological and anthropological contexts. Fine (1983) notes that without social or cultural forces jokes would be impossible. He writes,

“Most sociologists of humor agree with LaFave et al. (1976) that jokes only become jokes because of the social responses to them” (p. 176). Humor would make no sense without a social referent, even though humor also has psychological, linguistic, aesthetic, anthropological, historical, and even physiological dimensions of influence.

Apte (1983) notes that anthropologists have identified joking relationships in both special kinship as well as other types of social relationships. Joking relationships are characterized by playfulness, including teasing, bantering, mock insults, ridicule, horseplay, sexual innuendos, and obscene remarks.

Nonkinship joking appears to be more creative and spontaneous. According to Apte, a widely accepted definition of joking relationships is that of Radcliffe-Brown (1940), who said that it is “a relation between two persons in which one is by custom permitted, and in some instances required, to tease or make fun of the other, who in turn is required to take no offense” (p. 186). Kinship joking appears to be more formal, ritualized, and mostly found in cultures other than in the United States. When it occurs, it is viewed as helping to reduce tension, hostility, and inter-group conflicts and to enhance social control.

Fine (1983) finds few examples of joking relationships among family members in sociology, but does point out that research demonstrates such relationships within friendships and among co-workers.

Friends who have know each other for extended periods of time or those who live in isolated areas are especially prone to developing joking relationships. Joking seems to occur in all-male groups in particular, enabling group members to show intimacy, to help level status differences, and to vent aggressions and frustrations through bantering and kidding often to a degree that would be unavailable to outsiders. In working environments, co-workers, who are likely to become friends, engage in joking as a means of relieving the tedium of the job. Apte states too, humor constitutes “the ‘underside’ or unofficial aspect of any job” (p. 166).

Contextual rules for joking often are implicit and unknown consciously, according to Fine (1983).

Jokes define situations as well as individuals. That is, they establish community and identify group memberships. Making fun of a superior in public rarely happens, yet superiors use humor to develop rapport with their subordinates. If disparaging humor is used when the person who is the butt of the humor is present, the humor contains “a veneer of diplomacy” (p. 166). However, if the person is absent,

“such niceties can be ignored and replaced by brutal sarcasm” (p. 166). In either case, attention to impression management rules is required to maintain working relationships among friends, co-workers, and family members.

Moods, Emotions, and Humor

Moods have been show, according to Deckers (1998), to affect attention and perception, creativity and problem-solving, cognitive processing and memory, persuasion and social acumen. Moods can affect humor production, the intensity of laughter, nonverbal responses to humorous stimuli, and the way in which people use humor as a coping mechanism.

Deckers (1998) also notes that whereas personality traits are stable and enduring, mood states are momentarily stable, varying among and within individuals. Moods are weaker forms of emotions, but are

considered long lasting. Humor additionally is linked to personality. Personality traits and mood states work together to affect exhilaration, for example.

Moods may be affected by the phenomenon of catharsis. Catharsis derives from Greek, and means purification. When catharsis occurs there is an unleashing of pent-up emotions, a release of tensions, and an overall cleansing of our emotions and moods (G. D. Wilson, 1994). This cleansing is brought on by our ascendancy over a powerful or tragic event, such as those presented in tragic dramas and operas, or over powerful emotions.

According to Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001), sufficient empirical evidence exists to attest to the positive correlation between humor, life stress, and mood states. Specifically, those with a good sense of humor are less likely to become depressed, anxious, tense, and/or confused. This holds true both in terms of humor appreciation and humor production. In a replication study, Lefcourt further found that if subjects are very highly depressed, a ceiling effect exists around the social context such that humor scales and measures of life stress do not predict mood scores. However, humor appears to alter depression to a significant degree for most people. Nezlek et al. (2001) agree that a strong interaction effect exists between the two, and note that the strongest relationships occur between people who do not experience depression.

Also according to Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001), humor has been shown repeatedly as both a relatively enduring, trait-like personality orientation and as a method of coping with stress and pain. In addition to a stress moderator, humor may help people cope for longer periods of time with pain plus report less pain at higher thresholds. Lefcourt further found that people who have a good sense of humor seem to be able to maintain a positive affect even in the face of negative encounters. Thus, positive affect correlates with humor appreciation, and is best predicted as a result of experiencing positive life events.

Some evidence indicates that anxiety may be less affected by humor, as noted by Lefcourt

(Snyder, 2001). Nezu, Nezu, and Blisseuu (1988) reportedly found anxiety to be unrelated to humor also, perhaps because, as they noted, it is “more often anticipatory than retrospective” (p. 74). Furthermore,

Nezlek et al. (2001) found that depression as well as anxiety diminishes the tendency to experience positive affect and increases the tendency to experience negative affect. Moreover, these authors found no relationship between coping with humor and intimacy, and only a weak one among coping with humor, optimism, and social activity. So the authors note that neither a positive outlook nor one’s ability to make light of difficult situations is sufficient to produce optimal well-being.

Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001) notes that optimism and humor both are negatively associated with stress—that is, less distress leads to greater optimism and humor. First, optimism is associated with the type of laughter Lefcourt calls Duchenne. Non-Duchenne laughter involves the mouth only, perhaps giving the appearance of less genuine, overly controlled laughter. Duchenne laughter, on the other hand, is robust, full. Duchenne laughter is associated with less anger and more enjoyment. Because such laughers can dissociate and distance themselves from depression, grief, tension, and confusion, they recover more rapidly from distress.

Generally speaking, Deckers (1998) notes that joyful and cheerful moods relate to happiness, irritated moods relate to anger, and anxious moods relate to fear. If humor helps us to maintain a cheerful mood, it will help us to maintain positive affect. Ruch and Kohler (1998) indeed conclude that humorous individuals appear to possess a more cheerful temperament. These people seem to be more predisposed to agree, to be benevolent and tolerant, to be robust, and to be more inclined to resist and cope with life’s adversities.

As Deckers (1998) notes, our moods fluctuate with days and times. In addition, Ruch and Kohler

(1998) point out that we all are inclined to use humor more or less often depending on interactional contexts and our temperaments at the time. Exhilaration is his choice of words for the increased cheerfulness experienced in response to humor, but we may vacillate in our moods, seeing the glass as half empty one time and as half full another.

Kuiper’s and Martin’s (1998) data suggest that a sense of humor should not be considered a strong or sole indicator of overall healthy and positive personalities. In fact, they found that measures of

personality characteristics did not seem to significantly capture the important relationships between humor and such generally assumed personality traits as optimism, autonomy, self-acceptance, and environmental mastery. Other research does show a relationship between interpersonal relatedness, humor and laughter, and emotional and physical well-being. In fact, high humor individuals experience less anxiety and are less avoidant of relationships.

Generally speaking, Provine (2000) states that laughter involves weak conscious control. It is more easily inhibited than smiling. Laughter is nonverbal, spontaneous, largely unconscious, and involuntary. Smiling, however, is conscious and voluntary, and may help to maintain socially polite appearances by masking our true feelings.

Creativity, Spontaneity, and Humor

Creativity is about perspective, perception, play, and purpose. Goodman (1983) asserts, “Humor and creativity are at least kissing cousins” (p. 18). He continues, “My perspective is that laughter (haha!) and learning (aha!) can go hand-in-hand and that in many cases, laughter can liberate learning” (p. 4).

Humor is said to help gain students’ attention, maximize their memories, and augment their retention. In the meantime, their curiosity is peaked, which allows them to open themselves creatively. Humor can lead to a breakthrough in perspective and generate creative solutions; conversely, creative ideas often can lead to humor and laughter.

Derks (1996) also confirms that humor affects creativity. As an aid to learning, humor helps to improve students’ attention, mood, memory, and creativity through more flexible or divergent thinking.

When being creative in the theatre, the directors’ eyes and ears become important sources of feedback and direction for actors/performers. According to Del Close, a director of improvisational comedy at The

Second City in Chicago, an essentially nonexistent director is undesirable. He notes, “The actors have the worst seat in the house—they’re on stage. They need that extra eye out front” (McCrohan, 1987).

Stanislavsky (1936) also noted that actors should listen to the advise of directors and playwrights, but ultimately what is acted out on stage needs to become part of the actors themselves. This requires

collaborative planning, including opportunities for personal growth by harnessing creativity for coherent purposes. It also involves acting, wherein creative improvisations can help the actor experience and come into their own roles. Actors can respond to directors’ suggestions, but in creative ways perhaps never dreamed of by the directors.

Creative attempts fall prey to a couple of roadblocks, however. For example, British director,

Keith Johnstone (1979) warns that actors/performers need to watch out for what Shiller calls the “watcher at the gates of the mind.” This is the internal critic, the gatekeeper, who inspects and edits ideas.

Unfortunately, gatekeeping only causes actors to block creative impulses gleaned from improvisational play and humor. Thus, any techniques that encourage ideational fluency, as Baker-Sennet and Matusov

(1997) call it, are desireable.

As Nash and Calonico (1996) note, Mead’s I represents the creative, impulsive, unpredictable performer and innovator. It allows a group to more readily engage in what Sawyer (1997) refers to as divergent thinking and behaving. In the first stage of creativity, many new ideas, concepts, and actions should be introduced without concern for how they will work. Brainstorming physically as well as verbally is carried out through playmaking. Second, all need to become comfortable with ambiguity, contradictions, and incongruities. In these ways, more novel ideas might be generated. This, however, requires interdependence and cooperation with others, and that this is difficult. Third, whereas Sawyer refers to the divergent stage of creativity as a problem-finding stage, he refers to the next stage, the convergent stage, as problem-solving.

Creativity generally involves mental and physical play in the theatre. Improvisation is central to the playmaking process (Heinig & Stillwell, 1981). In all theatre contexts, actors engage in playmaking processes to create theatrical products—processes as old as theatre itself (Izzo, 1997). Either actors/performers are left on their own to generate playmaking behaviors or directors engage them in activities to stimulate play.

Actors/performers working on scripted productions, such as the one involved in this study, generally use an improvisational style closer to commedia dell’arte (comedy of professional artists) and commedia all’improviso (improvised comedy), according to Brockett (1996). Theses terms refer to plays performed by various professional troupes during the Italian Renaissance. Although traced to Roman mimes and entertainers, improvisation was a characteristic feature of commedia companies. They were marked by their use of stock characters, such as lovers, masters, and servants, rough scenarios outlining situations, complications, and outcomes, and pre-planned pieces of comic business know as lazzi.

Where there is free reign in the theatre to create, there are several distinguishing features.

Spontaneity is one key feature. Spolin (1963) defines spontaneity as “a moment of explosion; a free moment of self-expression” (p. 392). She cautions against using ideas that have been handed down and that contain information that is old, stale, and undigested. Instead she invites performers to engage in play that unleashes their imaginations, inventiveness, ingenuity, and sense of excitement and fun. Play renders learning a shared social activity requiring cooperation. The social nature of learning them diminishes the star system, and instead promotes collaborative, ensemble creations. Second, playmaking require greater self-regulation, given the burden of responsibility for keeping the group on task shifts to the ensemble in addition to the directors. Third, creative improvisations need to involve objectives or points of concentration to avoid chaos and instead to foster discipline, efficiency, and boundaries.

Creative people do presumably vary in their preferences for different types of humor. As

Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001) points out, Rotton and Shats found that humor reduced pain in post-surgical orthopedic patients. Patients who viewed comedic rather than serious films requested minor analgesics less often. When patients chose their films, humorous film viewing correlated with lower dosages of major analgesics. When there was no choice in the type of film viewed, those viewing humorous films requested analgesics more frequently than both those who viewed serious films or, as with a control group, had no films to view. Lefcourt writes:

These findings suggest the importance of idiosyncratic preferences that people have for certain

forms of humor. Watching “humorous” films that a person does not find funny may prove

irritating enough to exacerbate feelings of pain. On the other hand, watching “chosen” comedies

does prove beneficial with regard to muting the effects of pain. (p. 81)

Creativity, according to Goodman (1983), involves letting numerous types of ideas flow freely without judgment. It also involves allowing off-beat ideas to surface without dismissal. Sometimes a change in our perceptual scenery affords us opportunities to expand and extend our thinking. Goodman further recommends hitchhiking on others’ thinking as a way of expediting the transition from “yes, but” to “yes, and” (p. 19). This process is captured in Goodman’s acronym L.O.V.E.: “Let ‘em fly (ideas that is); Off-beat ideas are encouraged; Vast number and variety of ideas encouraged; Expand and piggyback on others’ thinking!” (p. 19).

Although an inexact science, creativity embraces illusions, magical powers, myths, and folklore.

For Charney (1983), “creativity lies not so much in the thematic materials (of jokes) as in the daring new combinations and stylistic experiments” (p. 34). It is hard to define, but it is well recognized as a cathartic means of purging our aggressions, repressions, and anxieties. It also is an essential part of self- preservation, health, and social well-being. This refutes a pervasive opinion that jokes, like folktales, are uncreative models and formulas from the past.

Rituals, Superstitions, and Humor

G. D. Wilson (1994) asserts, “Social rituals are recognized by anthropologists as the birthplace of many aspects of performance” (p. 23). Schechner (2002) also asserts that performances may be defined as “ritualized behavior conditioned/permeated by play” (p. 79). Through ritual, a second reality exists that, as Schechner notes, allows people to escape from their everyday lives in order to become someone or something other than themselves. Also according to Schechner, ritual and play are capable of transforming people either permanently or temporarily. In all cases, rituals are mental markers to help us celebrate rites of passage—religious or secular.

Levi-Strauss (1976) notes that games establish inequality by pointing up people’s differences.

Rituals, however, create unions between two initially separate groups. Games are symmetrical when they require playing according to preordained rules, and asymmetrical when they involve talent and chance.

On the other hand, rituals deal with archetypal images and content, and therefore are necessarily asymmetrical.

Levi-Strauss, as cited in Keesing (1974), proposes a theory of structural anthropology, which focuses on myth, art, kinship, and language to uncover the principles of the mind that lead to deeply held universal structures, such as superstitions. Although there is commonality among humans, deep cognitive structures are expressed differently per culture. Gmelch (1994) drives home this point with American baseball players, particularly pitchers and hitters, who use magical properties to ensure good luck to win games. Reasons for using such properties, ritualized actions, dress, and/or taboos for superstitious purposes follow: for one, Malinowski (Hess et al., 1996) views such behaviors as means to control chance and uncertainty; for another, Skinner (Kassin, 2004) views such behaviors as contiguously reinforced responses that persist even under repeated failures.

Moreover, Durkheim, according to Schechner (2002), made an important distinction about ritual, one that relates directly to theatre. For Durkheim, rituals are not ideas or abstractions, but performances enacting some significant behavioral pattern or text. He also notes that rituals serve to distract us and to transport our imaginations into other worlds. This not only is for the purpose of social solidarity, but for aesthetic reasons, because there is something inherently aesthetic about groups of people. Thus ritual art is more than mere ornamentation.

Lorenz (1976) notes that mannerisms change over time within a socio-cultural context through what Erik Erikson calls the process of “pseudo-speciation,” cultural rather than phylogenetic speciation.

Cultural pseudo-speciation involves the development of mannerisms which characterize the social norms and rites of a group and which remain in tact over a few generations. Indoctrination into what is acceptable and unacceptable behavior begins in infancy and continues throughout our life spans. We are

inclined to view the social rites and norms of other cultures as inferior to our own, and the people of other cultures as sub-human to some degree. Thus, as we are taught again and again, humans must build bridges of tolerance between and among themselves regardless of their cultural pseudo-speciation.

In addition, transitions serve as a kind of rite of passage that involve rituals. Von Gennep’s

(1960) universal tripartite theory of rites of passage, including separations, transitions, and reincorporations, is the basis of V. Turner’s (1986) concept of social dramas. Social dramas refer to micro- and/or macro-social phenomena that require a change in people’s relations. By adding redressive or remedial procedures between van Gennep’s last two passages, V. Turner discusses conflict and anxiety reduction activities, such as personal advice or mediation.

Social dramas, according to V. Turner (1976), involve four parts. First, there is a breach of a norm-governed relationship that noticeably breaks a norm, whether legal, moral, or cultural. Breaches cause groups to splinter, thus there is an urgency to repair infractions. Second, there is a crisis period within which, in the face of socio-cultural pressures, people must decide to adhere to, transform, or deviate from the current codes of conduct. This is the period marked by liminality. Third, Turner talks about a range of redressive or remedial procedures that can bring about conflict-resolution – legal adjudication, informal mediation, or personal advise. Star groupers may be used to help reintegrate disturbed parties based on their ability to help negotiate resolution due to their recognition, status, and/or interpersonal efficacy. Fourth, there is a reintegration stage that involves resolution. As V. Turner (1982) notes, traditional frames may need to be reframed, or put another way, we may need “new bottles for new wine” (p. 79).

Importantly, V. Turner (1986) addresses anxiety directly. His transitional period is marked by a crisis—a period of liminality—wherein, due to socio-cultural pressures, people must decide to adhere to, transform, or deviate from current norms. One’s self-awareness and perhaps levels of public controversy are intensified. People experience themselves in a state of isolation, wherein awareness and understanding of socio-cultural patterns, norms, and rules are seldom clearer, and wherein, anxiety is

high. Myerhoff (1982) writes, “Tension is heightened by rites, and resolution is eagerly sought” (p.

113). It is at such times that people are most teachable.

Some of V. Turner’s (1976, 1982, 1986) terminology is useful here. Liminal phenomena refer to required activities centered around rule-governed norms, such as those found in clubs, churches, sects, and society at large. These phenomena maintain institutional existence and progress as well as social bonding and cohesion. Liminoid phenomena refer to exploratory play and experimentation, creativity, and idiosyncratic behaviors of individuals in the arts, sciences, sports, games, or pastimes, for example.

These phenomena are voluntary and often recreational. Anti-structure is Turner’s term for our liberation from the social constraints of everyday life so that we may devise novel alternatives for modifying cultural needs. Communitas is his term for experiencing ritual camaraderie or group solidarity. It also embraces individuals’ naturally self-propelled urges and struggles to be free from social constraints.

Paradoxically, V. Turner (1982) writes, “initially free and innovative relationships between individuals are converted into norm-governed relationships between social personae” (p. 47). He continues to point out the paradox inherent in this concept—“that the more spontaneously ‘equal’ people become, the more distinctively ‘themselves’ they become; the more the same they become socially, the less they find themselves to be individually” (p. 47).

Finally, sexual humor is witnessed in ritualized religious humor. Sexual and scatological activities are parodied and re-enacted in an exaggerated fashion, according to Apte (1983). Such humor may involve obscene singing, touching and grabbing sexual organs, chasing one another, obscene horseplay, and even simulated urination and defecation. Two types of rituals embody this use of humor— those that relate to calendrical ceremonies and those that mark rites of passage. Apte claims that ritual clowns are responsible for humor in the former ceremonies whereas family members and friends present humor in the latter ceremonies. Sometimes, as in some African cultures, men and women imitate the clothing and behavior of the opposite sex. In addition, some American Indians engage in contrary humor: for example, they walk backwards, say the opposite of what is meant, and groan under a light load while

pretending to not be bothered by a heavy one. Moreover, some religiously ritualized humor is very much like actors acting out roles on a stage in the contemporary world; ritual clowns wear makeup and costumes, embody animal behaviors, burlesque activities, and tease participants.

Communication, Learning, and Humor

General Communication Principles

Various principles and theories regarding interpersonal and group communications are pertinent, though peripheral to the current study. First, Barnlund and Haiman (1960) are credited with taking a functional perspective of group needs and roles by distinguishing between task and process leadership.

Task leadership involves activities that keep a group moving forward on its job-related assignments. This work involves coworkers’ engagement in initiating, coordinating, summarizing, and elaborating on work- related ideas and solutions. Process leadership involves the maintenance of positive interpersonal relationships among group members. These relational behaviors may include tension relief, gatekeeping, encouraging others, and mediating conflicts.

Additionally, Sieburg and Larson (2000) pose several types of responses to the communicative acts of others. Confirming responses attempt to help others feel good about themselves. They may include direct acknowledgements of a group member’s communication, reinforcement of expressed content, an expression of support and understanding, a request for clarification of thoughts or feelings, and/or an expression of positive feeling. Disconfirming responses make others feel less good about themselves. They may provide no response, which is the worst possible response, interrupt another, or involve an irrelevant, tangential, impersonal, incoherent, or incongruous response. Types of responses affect a group’s climate, such that the more positive the responses, the more positive the climate. When presented humorously, even disconfirming responses may be more palatable, and create less negative affect for others.

Griffin (2003) emphasizes that groups need to take care to avoid Irving Janis’s concept of groupthink. This is a tendency of certain group members to fail to disagree with one another or to voice

doubts in decision-making, even if decisions are inferior and may lead to dangerous consequences. This occurs because group members are highly concerned about group harmony and unity. Griffin writes,

“Although a high proportion of cutting remarks could tear a group apart, a healthy does of voiced skepticism is necessary to reach a quality decision” (p. 229).

In addition, while withholding evaluations before drawing conclusions, it is important at all times to look for nonverbal cues, to listen to what is being said, to ask questions, and to paraphrase messages, both content and feeling messages. This is sage advise from such listening experts as Nichols and

Stevens (1957) and Wolvin and Coakley (1982). Effective listening means being actively engaged with others in order to make sense out of their meanings. It also means empathizing with others and offering them unconditional regard. Rogers (1961, 1980) teaches us about unconditional positive regard, which involves confirming others’ thoughts and feelings as important while at the same time attempting to empathize with them.

Howell (1982) notes that empathy involves our ability to replicate or imitate another’s meanings.

He adds that we do not feel what another feels, rather we think and feel what we perceive another to be experiencing on cognitive and emotional dimensions. So we can empathize only with that which we have experienced. Thus, the more common our experiences and characteristics are, the greater the likelihood that we will develop quality relationships.

DeVito (2004) and Verderber and Verderber (2005) note that relationships form and dismantle according to various stages of development, according to the social penetration theory. DeVito talks about contact, involvement, and intimacy as stages in new relationships. Verderber et al. refer to relationships at progressive stages of formation, including acquaintances, friends, and close friends or intimates. As relationships unravel, DeVito talks about relational deterioration, repair, and dissolution.

Verderber et al. discuss relationship disintegration.

It is desirable to foster positive responses in communication encounters. Humor is only one way to affect such responses. Here are several more. First, as DeVito (2004) points out, attraction theory

holds that relationships are developed based on attractiveness (physical appearance and personality), proximity (living close by and/or being exposed to each other), and overall similarity. Second, one’s positively perceived credibility, according to Griffin (2003), is based on favorable responses to Aristotle’s three sources of ethos – intelligence or competence, character or ethics, and goodwill towards others.

Third, according to Verderber et al. (2005), giving positive personal feedback will create a positive climate and rapport with others if it focuses on describing behaviors, praising others, and issuing constructive criticism. Constructive criticism consists of seeking permission for feedback, describing behavior without labeling it, attending to face saving needs, and sometimes, if appropriate, offering ideas for behavioral changes. Fourth, a positive climate is supportive rather than defensive. As Verderber et al. note, positive relations are accomplished by speaking in a descriptive, open, tentative, and equal manner rather than an evaluative, closed, dogmatic, or superior manner.

Several additional theories and their premises are in order. For one, Littlejohn (2002) talks about a set of theories referred to as consistency or balance theories. These theories hold that humans experience cognitive discomfort when two or more cognitions clash. When such discomfort or dissonance occurs, we are motivated to resolve our internal conflicts or discrepancies in order to return to a state of balance or homeostasis. We can do this by changing our environment, adopting a new cognition, or falling back on former cognitions.

For another, Santrock (2003) and Matlin (2002) discuss automatic versus controlled mental processing of information, which is important in understanding rehearsals in this study. Controlled processing is used to process information when it is new, unfamiliar, and complex. It also is conscious and serial, requiring us to focus on only one item at a time initially when learning something. Automatic processing is used when information is familiar, easy, and already rehearsed. It is unconscious and parallel, allowing simultaneous mental processing.

Third, Craik and Lockhart (1972) present a theory of levels of processing. This theory proposes that the more deeply we process information, the better we remember it. Craik and Tulving (1975)

explain that elaboration creates the depth of processing needed for memory. Elaboration includes, for example, the use of examples, self-references of experiences, and various mnemonic devices.

In addition, Santrock (2003) notes that human development, like a strand of ivy, may take many paths based on both contextual factors and heredity. Relationships are symbolic constructions developed through reciprocal interactions. Late adolescents and young adults experience pressures to conform to peers and to seriously search for their sexual and other self-identities. By young adulthood some psychologists believe that the buoyant optimism of youth diminishes as does the absolute convictions of adolescence. Young adults rather search for intimacy and generativity in terms of their personal/social, academic, and professional lives.

Finally, Borich (2004) distinguishes between and among the cognitive, affective, and psychomotor domains of learning, concepts useful to this study. Bloom’s taxonomy of cognitive development is useful to understanding levels of intellectual development, including knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. In addition, Krathwohl’s, Bloom’s, and

Masia’s affective taxonomy helps us to understand levels of affective/emotional development of beliefs, attitudes, and values; five levels include receiving information, responding to it, valuing it, organizing it, and characterizing it. Finally, Harrow’s psychomotor taxonomy, which refers to the development of coordination to perform physical activities, includes imitation, manipulation, precision of behavior, articulation, and naturalization.

Verbal and Nonverbal Humor

Our humorous exchanges carry meanings via a wide range of verbal and/or nonverbal messages.

Fine (1983) notes that conversational analysts and ethnomethodologists have been some of the most serious investigators of humor. This is because learning how to read these messages is as critical as learning to read and write. Knowing when to smile, when to laugh, and how much of each to do is learned social behavior. For example, Fine notes that withholding laughter may result in a put down, ridicule, or trouble for the humor initiator. Also laughing at an inappropriate moment may sabotage the

humor initiator, making him or her look foolish. So humor is a symbolic, socially regulated activity that requires savvy as well as caution.

Provine (2000) makes several worthwhile observations. First, he uses the term punctuation effect to refer to the orderly relationship between laughter and speech. That is, laughter tends to follow sentences and questions. Interrupting a speaker mid-story or mid-statement is atypical. Second, everyday conversations are in reality not like stand-up comedy; they are like mundane, poorly crafted situation- comedy-like scripts. Laughter in such settings is not about jokes, but is a social signal to come into relationship with others. Deborah Tannen (1990) gives small talk a large role in developing camaraderie.

Third, laughter occurs in the presence of others rather than alone. Fourth, eye contact is a key facilitator of laughter. Fifth, people may mask their true emotions by laughing and smiling in socially expected ways. Thus, laughter and smiling may serve as socially motivated impression management techniques.

Teaching, Learning, and Humor

The research literature has given much attention to humor as an aid to learning, but with mixed results. Some studies have shown support for the positive effects of humor on learning, such as improved attention, mood, and creativity (Derks, 1996), or improved student-teacher rapport, student affect, and perception of a teacher as competent and appealing (Gorham & Christophel, 1990). However, some studies have not demonstrated such positive affects, perhaps due to artificial settings and short exposures to humorous stimuli (Ziv. 1988).

Kelly and Gorham (1988) explain the attention-gaining and holding theory related to humor further. They claim that immediacy is responsible for attention. Richmond et al. (1998) define immediacy as “the degree of perceived physical or psychological closeness between two people” (p. 87).

Immediacy, a concept originally outlined by Albert Mehrabian in the early 1970’s, is based on the principle that people approach or are responsive to people and things that they like and view positively; they avoid or are unresponsive to those people and things that they dislike and view negatively. Verbal immediacy involves statements that demonstrate our openness, liking, and/or empathy toward others.

Nonverbal immediacy is demonstrated via close proximity to others, time with others, an inviting voice, direct eye contact, open posture, gestures, and movement, a smiling face, and perhaps touching.

Obviously, teachers who frequently employ immediacy behaviors arouse and maintain greater attention from students, as Kelly et al. and Gorham et al. (1990) point out. This then frees students to enlist their cognitive capacities, to remember content better, and, as Frymier (1994) adds, to be more state motivated to learn.

Wanzer and Frymier (1999) draw the same conclusion, adding that teachers who use humor are perceived as creating greater immediacy. In addition, students appear to learn more from highly humor oriented (HO) teachers, but highly HO students report even greater learning from humorous teachers.

Such teachers may exhibit greater flexibility in their communication with others, but, according to

Wanzer, Booth-Butterfield, and Booth-Butterfield (1995), such teachers may also have a greater need to create rewarding impressions in their receivers.

Downs, Javidi, and Nussbaum (1988) note that award-winning college teachers actively engage in using humor, self-disclosure, and narratives. However, they use them less often than non-award-winning college teachers. Perhaps disclosing too much or becoming a joker causes teachers to lose credibility.

Downs, Javidi, and Nussbaum (1988) found that award-winning middle and high school teachers used humor significantly less often than award-winning college teachers; however, though middle school teachers used significantly less self-disclosure and narratives, high school or college teachers used about the same frequency of both.

Conclusions

The current study undertook the task of investigating the role of humor in the life of a musical theatre production at a mid-sized, Midwestern university from a social psychological perspective. The goal of this research was to explore and discover how actors/performers in training as well as their directors and stage managers experienced humor, stress and/or anxieties, and role development in various social contexts surrounding and affecting on stage performances. The focus of this study was neither on

acting/performing techniques nor on the comedic elements of the script. Rather the ethnographic design employed allowed participants’ an opportunity to reveal their insights and perspectives on an individual- by-individual basis concerning their experiences of humor in reducing stress, tensions, and/or anxieties and in enhancing performances. Based on individual interviews and many observations of them in interactions with others, a wide range of phenomenological information was generated about how they experienced these elements in the theatrical culture within which they lived for nearly two months.

Various patterns or themes emerged following observations of and interviews with participants, and reflected an emic perspective—that is, the experiences of participants through their own eyes. Since this ethnography employed a research-before-theory approach, literature to explain phenomena revealed by the participants was uncovered only after patterns were allowed to emerge naturally based on the stories that the participants told in word and deed formally and informally. Importantly, many of the patterns or themes uncovered in Chapter 3 and discussed in Chapter 4 make contributions to current research. For example, no studies were found that dealt with stress, tensions, and/or anxieties in theatrical contexts, and only one study was located that treated humor and role development within a theatrical context. A greater level of specificity regarding central patterns or themes will be revealed in subsequent chapters.

Within the present Chapter, a broad based literature review was presented to help interpret the results of this study. This literature review draws on social psychology, communication, theatre, and education in order to reflect the interdisciplinary nature of this ethnography. First, a foundation was presented regarding leading social science research on stress and/or anxieties. Second, since play forms a foundation for studying actors/performers within a musical theatre context, the concept of play received an extensive definition. Third, since performance and role-playing also form an important foundation for the present study, they received extensive definitions as well. Fourth, various forms of humor as well as smiling, laughing, amusement, and other comedic or disparaging variations were considered. Fifth, humor was investigated in terms of various factors contributing to its increase or decrease, such as stress,

criticisms, competition, and conflicts, socializing, moods and emotions, creativity and spontaneity, and rituals and superstitions. Finally, some research concerning communication, learning, and humor was presented as a backdrop. This involved a simple foundation of information within several categories— general communication principles, verbal and nonverbal humor, and teaching, learning, and humor— presented as a means of attempting to tie together different facets of this study.

Chapter 2

METHODOLOGY

Conceptual and Theoretical Frameworks

The goal of the present study was to explore how actors and performers, such as singers and dancers, developed and executed their acting and/or performing roles while rehearsing for and performing in a musical theatre production within a university context. The focus was not on theatrical techniques of acting and performing; rather it was on uncovering social psychological phenomena related to how humor, in particular, was used backstage or off stage to help reduce anxieties and enhance performances.

Humor as a coping mechanism for stress, tensions, and/or anxieties was discovered to be a recurring theme as a result of asking participants—actors/performers, directors, and stage managers—what helped and what hindered actors in the development of their stage performances. More information about the focus of the study will be presented later in this section.

For now background information regarding the meaning of ethnography is presented. The term ethnography can be defined as follows: first, ethno- means a tribe, race, or culture; second, -graphy refers to the act of creating a written record. As Gall, Gall, and Borg (1999) indicate, a written ethnographic record probes and uncovers themes inherent in the “traditions, symbols, rituals, and artifacts that characterize a particular group of individuals” within a culture (p. 331). Culture, according to Griffin

(2003), is defined by Geertz as “systems of shared meaning” within all of the subcultures and countercultures within the larger societies of the world (p. 273). Ethnography, Griffin continues, consists of “the intertwined layers of common meaning that underlie what a particular people say and do” (p. 274).

Written records of ethnographic data are prolific and richly detailed. They contain what Geertz

(1973) calls thick descriptions—a phrase coined by Geertz to refer to anthropologists’ characteristically highly detailed and vivid written descriptions of field observations. Such written records are rich in information, and thus metaphorically conceived as mosaics or patchwork quilts. Thick descriptions correspond to the kind of extensive exposition and participant quotations required for creating and re-

creating vivid written accounts of a culture. The process is inductive, interpretive, generative, and constructive as well as useful to scholars, educators, and others who wish to better acquaint themselves with social and relational terrains.

In order to illuminate the conceptual and theoretical frameworks driving this ethnographic research project, more in depth characteristics of ethnography are provided. First, as noted by Sigman

(1998), ethnography can be viewed from a values-framework in terms of the processes employed for data collection and analysis. As such, he defines ethnography as follows:

A belief that the social world should be approached naturalistically, in terms of behavior that

members of a community themselves typically engage in and witness; holistically, with an

understanding that any datum can be situated and understood ithin more encompassing streams of

behavior (contexts); and emically, so that the meanings of behavior that are most relevant are

those that are lived and generated by the members themselves, not by the researchers. (p. 354)

Sigman’s focus on ethnography as a naturalistic, holistic, and emic process is echoed by other scholars of ethnography, such as Berg (1995), LeCompt and Preissle (1993), Patton (1990), and Spradley

(1980). Emic refers to insiders’ views, and etic to outsiders’ views of a culture.

In addition, Goodall (1998) refers to ethnographies as lived experiences that seek to discover the soul in the ordinary, everyday events of people. In admonishing scholars’ preoccupation with logical positivism, he notes, “we have sacrificed the soul for knowledge about the body and mind, a Faustian equation if ever there were one” (p. 366). Instead, Goodall calls for transformative connections between and among the life events we engage in, opportunities through which we can “discover extraordinary connections and use communication to coach and urge (our) lives into meaning” (p. 366). Cultural connections are not always apparent, given they are easily taken for granted while being lived out.

Hence, many ethnographers refer to this characteristic of ethnography as “making the familiar strange”

(Gall et al., 1999, p. 329).

Furthermore, ethnographic traditions normally involve employing a research-before-theory rather than theory-before-research focus. Berg (1995) notes that “research may suggest new problems for theory, require theoretical innovation, refine existing theories, or serve to verify past theoretical assumptions” (p. 16). As such, no hypotheses or other predictions based on theoretical assumptions are made in advance. Thus, an a priori literature review may be untenable, and according to some, undesirable, lest theoretical preconceptions taint researchers’ perceptions, and bias data. Rather the ethnographer is required to adopt the emic or insiders’ view; this calls for understanding participants’ perceptions from their own perspectives. It also calls for discovering how participants’ perceptions spawn certain meanings about events and phenomena. However, Berg claims that both approaches are compatible. That is, as reflected in a spiraling rather than linear model of research methodology, researchers may refrain from copious literature reviews, and instead may begin to peruse literature related to themes and patterns as they surface.

Research Design

Over the course of approximately three months, this basic ethnographic study was conducted within a musical theatre department at a sizable, Midwestern university. The general context of investigation was a full-length musical theatre production within a department of primarily musical theatre and theatre performance, dance, and technical theatre. Although this study was broad and interdisciplinary, combining social psychology, theatre, and higher education, it focused predominantly on student actors/performers without delimiting their experiences prior to or during the research timeframe. However, the ability to observe and interview directorial and management staff aided me in validating findings by comparing and contrasting their perceptions against actors’.

Based on prior research and the preferences of such ethnographic scholars as Berg (1995) and

LeCompt et al. (1993), it was determined that the focus of this study should be broad based, allowing for free and flexible exploration of key elements of human interaction as they surfaced while in the field. In this way, I was able to probe a myriad of factors of special interest even if they were not predicted in

advance, whether such factors dealt with play and humor, performance fears and/or anxieties, socializing processes, conflicts and competition, leadership styles, feedback mechanisms, or emotional management techniques. Such focal areas were clarified and refined as the study progressed, allowing me to reduce researcher bias by remaining open to issues as they occurred naturally.

Again, this study was broad and interdisciplinary, focusing on student actors/performances as the primary targets of this research. Specifically, this ethnography explored how actors and/or performers developed and executed their acting roles and/or performances while rehearsing for and performing in a musical theatre production. Everything revealed by individual actors/performers was deemed valuable and important to this research, thus no one’s experience was delimited.

It is salient to note again that I adhered to Smiley’s (1987) distinction between acting and performing in this study. That is, acting is the art and craft of embodying the role of someone other than yourself within a theatrical context. Performing, on the other hand, involves entertaining others through a performing art form, such as dancing and/or singing. Typically, performers play themselves. However, when an artist sings and dances in character, such as in a musical theatre production, he/she then engages in both acting and performing simultaneously.

In addition, from a sociological viewpoint, Kendall (1996) defines a role as “a set of behavioral expectations associated with a given status” (p. 166). She defines status as “a socially defined position in a group or society characterized by certain expectations, rights, and duties” (p. 163). Thus, when speaking of a role sociologically, we refer to one’s actual social and/or occupational statuses in life, such as a middle class husband or an actor. When we speak of theatrical or performance roles, we refer to a person’s statuses as a certain character or type of performer on stage, such as the King of England or a comedienne.

Rather than focusing on traditional theatrical or performance techniques employed by student artists, this study aimed to uncover social psychological phenomena off stage that affected the development of roles/performances on stage. This is not to say that traditional techniques did not affect

actors’ roles and performances. Indeed, the techniques used by each actor/performer guided them in useful yet often loose ways, given few used traditional techniques fully. More often actors/performers leaned on other means of developing roles, such as rehearsal time with the directors, their own understanding of the play produced, perhaps other versions of it they had seen, the culture of the department and the nature of social interactions in it, individual personalities, and the history of their relationships with others. Some of these phenomena even became part of an actor’s technique, such as play and humor became a way to relax, to build camaraderie, to manage emotions, and to open up creatively. Indeed, it is my emphasis on social psychological phenomena affecting student artists rather than their use of traditional techniques that uncovered these sorts of practices.

While focusing on what helped and/or hindered stage roles/performances, I also was interested in investigating, for example, the similarities, differences, and interactions between roles carried out off versus on stage, how roles off stage effected role development on stage, how actors’/performers’ roles coincided with or deviated from the expectations others and they held about how they ought to play their roles, the distance one placed between a role and oneself, and/or how one engaged in and disengaged from a role on versus off stage.

Finally, reasons for selecting a musical theatre production were at least fourfold. Each reason allowed the researcher to compare and contrast various social psychological phenomena with perhaps greater distinction. First, a musical theatre production provided a single setting for studying both acting and performing processes. Second, since there usually are many actors/performers involved in musical theatre, this allowed for greater ease of purposeful and snowball sampling, if desired. Third, the myriad of directors—artistic, musical, vocal, stage combat specialists, and, of course, choreographers, and their assistants involved in musical theatre productions—were felt to enhance my ability to observe actors/performers in many types of interactions, especially with different styles of leadership. Finally, the larger group size and various arts employed in this uniquely American brand of theatre afforded the researcher a rich socio-cultural context for research.

Specifically, I conducted forty field observations over the course of seven weeks. These forty days consisted of two evenings of auditions, twenty-eight out of thirty evenings of rehearsal sessions, and ten out of eleven performances, again all in the evening. Each rehearsal was approximately four hours in length. I engaged in approximately one hundred and seventy hours of field observations for ninety-three percent of the sessions held.

Observing so many sessions of interaction was done for at least two reasons. For one, this gave participants the opportunity to habituate to my presence so that I grew largely invisible. For another, it provided a full, rich set of data, enhancing the number of potential themes generated and the depth of information associated with them.

Due to the preferences of the production staff, I primarily observed individuals from a house seat whether participants were in interaction on stage and/or in the house. Only one rehearsal and one performance were observed from the wings of the stage. Additionally, short amounts of time were spent observing participants from a lighting booth and from back stage dressing and technical areas.

While sitting out in front of the stage held the advantage of seeing almost everything in the auditorium or house in a non-distracting manner, it also possessed drawbacks. For instance, it limited observations of informal peer interactions in the environs of the stage. It further limited, or at least distanced, observations of more formal team or sub-group rehearsals. In addition, conversations, whether with participants or other production staff and me, were kept to a minimum in order to fulfill my promise to remain as unobtrusive to participants as possible. When they occurred, our conversations primarily consisted of informal small talk, rapport building talk, and humorous repartee. I also both complimented and asked participants questions for clarification.

Following the production, I conducted one-on-one interviews ranging from one to three hours in duration with twenty-three individuals involved directly in this study—eighteen cast members, three stage managers, and two directors. Nearly forty-hours were spent over the course of eleven days in interviews.

As Manis and Meltzer (1978) note, observations alone cannot help us interpret the meanings inherent in

another’s experience. Rather we must come to learn each individual’s meanings firsthand by talking to them.

Only one actor declined participation altogether in this study. Also two students had very minor walk-on roles, and therefore did not attend rehearsals until the end. They, therefore, were excluded from this study. All other performers agreed to participate in all aspects of the current project. The actors, along with directors and stage managers, were present from the beginning to the end of the musical theatre production process, from auditions to the last performance and strike. Thus, after repeated interactions with and observations of these participants over the first seven weeks of this project, I came to view this tight-knit group of twenty-three individuals as the ideal group for participant interviews.

Regarding the format for interviews, I had anticipated perhaps using snowball or cascade sampling (Gall et al., 1999) and/or focus group interviews (Berg, 1996). However, one-on-one interviews came to be viewed as the most purposeful, meaningful, and efficient means of individual questioning for a couple of reasons. For one, participants informed me that focus groups would be nearly impossible to schedule due to everyone’s revolving, varied, and full schedules. For another, I received little meaningful feedback from a random sample of participants I had asked for other potential and pertinent interviewees.

The one person it was suggested I talk to declined participation in the interviewing process.

One-on-one interviews then were conducted with the same group involved from the onset— eighteen actors/performers, three stage managers, and two directors. Interviews were semi-structured, designed primarily to ask participants about their thoughts, feelings, and behaviors associated with the development of roles and/or performances during both the preparation and public phases of this production. See Appendices A, B, and C for more detailed information concerning the schedules of questions used for actors/performers, stage management personnel, and the artistic and musical directors.

Although I outlined a set of interview questions prior to beginning data collection for this study, these questions were redesigned to most appropriately suit the research after multiple field observations.

However, I still included the essence of my original questions, especially what helped and what hindered

participants’ stage role development. In addition, I probed for information about humor, stress and/or anxieties, feedback or lack of it, and the felt consequences of conflicts.

The one-on-one, semi-structured interview format provided, for one, an opportunity to confirm and/or disconfirm events, ideas, feelings, roles, rules, and relationships, plus other participants’ perceptions as well as my own. It also was a catalyst for building rapport in safe, non-threatening ways.

All interviews were held in one of various small voice or music rehearsal rooms on campus. Further, this format encouraged open, honest discussion because, with only two people present, there was a solid sense of confidentiality.

Furthermore, I collected pertinent written documents for potential analysis throughout this study—for example, the libretto, music and lyrics, rehearsal schedules, line notes, departmental and university materials, and a senior thesis on the production. Photographs were taken of all audition, rehearsal, and performance spaces as well. Plus some photographs were shot of general spaces where participants lounged during breaks and dressed for performances. Others were taken of actors in various scenes on stage during a professional photo shoot. Still others were taken of graffiti on the backs of set pieces and on the wall in a hallway area on the side of the backstage wall where dressing rooms were located.

Research Participants and Sites

Participants for the present study were identified based on their selection into a musical theatre production within a department of musical theatre, theatre, dance, and technical theatre at a Midwestern university. The two directors were full-time faculty members at the institution. The artistic director selected the production’s three stage managers. The musical director and he cast actors/performers into production roles based on auditions and, in some instances, prior knowledge of individual capabilities.

Both directors reported drawing up multiple casting configurations before settling on the final one. This was due to difficulty matching the singing, acting, and dancing demands of the show to the students’ actual talents and the directors’ visions for the production. Not every actor/performer received the role(s)

he/she desired, but only one declined a role, which was recast immediately. Everyone else at least eventually adapted to their assigned role(s). It is important to note that two actors/performers played double roles.

In this research, I was interested primarily in actors and performers (singers and dancers) who were performing in the musical theatre production under study. Even though the students were the center of this analysis, influencing levels surrounding their behaviors were considered, such as each individual’s socio-cultural background, the cultural and academic life of the department within which the study was conducted, students’ interactions with production staff and peers, and their college social life.

Montgomery and Duck (1991) point out that by investigating multiple interrelationships among various dimensions of an individual’s social world, individual similarities and differences will not be divorced from the socio-cultural, psychological, and academic contexts within which they occur.

Of the eighteen out of nineteen actors/performers, three stage managers, and two directors included in the present study, eleven were males and twelve were females. Over the course of seven weeks, each participant was involved in at least one of two auditions, three musical rehearsals, twenty- two blocking rehearsals, two technical rehearsals, three dress and technical rehearsals, and eleven performances. Of the twenty-two blocking rehearsals, nine were devoted to Act I, six were devoted to

Act II, and seven focused on Acts I and II together. There were only two directors in this musical. The artistic director also served as the choreographer, and the musical director also served as a vocal director.

The two male directors were the only non-student participants. One was in his thirties and the other in his fifties. One possessed a master of fine arts degree and the other a doctoral degree. Both were seasoned professionals from outside the region of the university originally, Caucasian, middle class or above, and highly dedicated to their art forms.

Of the twenty-one student participants, be they actors/performers or stage managers, all were undergraduates. Specifically, four were freshmen, one was a sophomore, six were juniors, one was between a junior and a senior status, and nine were seniors. Their ages ranged from eighteen to mid-

twenties, including five who were teenagers, eight who were twenty-one, five who were twenty-two, and three who were older than twenty-two. Eight were musical theatre majors, and nine were theatre majors, two of whom had a double major in either music or English, and one of whom had a double major in music. Two students were purely music majors, one was an Education major, and two freshmen remained undecided.

In addition, these students lived at home, in apartments, or in dorms typically close to the campus.

Moreover, for the most part, they grew up within the state or at least the region surrounding the university. Only three were from outside the immediate region, and one was from another country. There was one foreign student and one African American student. The rest were Caucasian and middle class or above. In order to graduate, two students were struggling to pass qualifying examinations mandated by the University—one in English and one in Mathematics. Moreover, eleven students possessed some kind of scholarship to aid them with university tuition expenses.

The actors’/performers’ dress was casual and loose fitting. All dressed similarly in, for example, jeans, stretch pants, sweats, tees, sweat shirts, and soft-soled shoes. This kind of “uniform” allowed everyone to move about freely regardless of what they were asked to do—to stand, sit, lie down, or move.

As noted by the students, they may have had to change their clothes various times throughout any given day from dance to acting clothes to street clothes, and from outdoor to indoor clothing, or from fair to inclement weather attire. As such, all carried backpacks, dance bags, and/or other types of carrying cases.

The weather was cold, thus all wore coats, hats, scarves, gloves, and boots as well.

Since musical theatre is known as a triple threat, how all eighteen actors/performers rated themselves is of special interest. For one, eight students qualified themselves as singers (S) first, actors

(A) second, and dancers (D) third—SAD’s. On the other hand, six called themselves A’s first, S’s second, D’s third—ASD’s. Other less frequent variations included one who claimed to be an ADS, one a

DSA, another a SDA, and yet another a DAS.

Moreover, seven actors/performers wanted the single production role that they received, whereas five wanted a different role. Six reported that they would have been happy with any role, and only two reported to be vying for a couple of different roles, both of whom received one of the roles they desired.

Of those who did not receive the roles they were vying for, one reported in our interview to be very unhappy initially, so much so that he/she complained to both directors. Further, one thought that he/she should have been cast in double roles although he/she was not; this performer reportedly questioned the directors, and was told that there never was an interest in double casting these roles. All actors adapted to casting choices rather quickly from my point of view. There was never any indication during rehearsals of malcontent.

The first day of auditions as well as the first three days of musical rehearsals were held in a medium-sized dance classroom. This room was well lit and very light in color. It possessed two mirrored walls with ballet bars, a piano, and stack chairs. It possessed a neutral, yet modern and open feel, though it also retained a studious ambiance. For each session, stage managers carefully adjusted chairs and the piano in this space. For auditions, front and side seating areas to the right side of the room were arranged directly in front of the mirrors; for rehearsals, a circular seating area toward the middle of the room was created. For both types of sessions one six-foot table was set up for the director and/or stage manager(s) to use for note taking and record keeping. This table was in front of the room for auditions and off to the right side for rehearsals.

Directly outside the dance classroom was the lobby area of the Theatre Department. This large, open space was furnished with soft couches and chairs, stack chairs and tables. The lobby was conveniently located directly outside of departmental offices, and adjacent to other faculty offices, a costume shop, departmental bulletin boards, male and female restrooms, an elevator, and other classrooms and/or conference rooms. Many students hung out here in general and on breaks during this rehearsal process. Because the furniture was so comfortable, the lighting dim, and the students’ schedules

so busy, many often were caught napping or resting here. The theatre lobby provided a central place for students and faculty to congregate and to stay in touch with what was going on in their Department.

Callbacks and all other blocking, technical and dress rehearsals were held in the main stage theatre within which this production was performed. The auditorium or house and the stage areas both were utilized. This was a small to medium-sized house with a raked auditorium and a proscenium stage.

In front of the curtain and to the far sides of the proscenium arch were small rooms for additional entrances and exits. Below the reasonably sized apron of the stage was an orchestra pit used by the production’s fifteen-piece orchestra. The orchestra consisted of a pianist, one person on a synthesizer, two percussionists, five string players, and six horn players. The main stage theatre itself was decorated in dark colors and contained various textures on the walls, floors, stage, house seats, and ceiling. It was a warm, modern, comfortable home away from home for cast and crew over the course of this production.

Breaks occurred intermittently during each rehearsal, not as often as union rules would suggest, but one every one to two hours. The lead Stage Manger called all breaks. During breaks, many students lounged in the house and talked with other students or staff, or they rehearsed their lines, songs, or dances, studied for classes, and/or rested. Less than a handful of individuals went outside to smoke per break, since the campus was non-smoking. Many found their way to vending machines in the building for drinks and light snacks. In fact, certain folks would make food and/or drink runs for others, but most made the run themselves for the exercise.

Early on, the house was a bustling place for laying down one’s belongings and for meeting, greeting, and socializing with others. It also served as a place for preparing to go on stage, for studying or resting, for keenly observing stage work, and for receiving directors’ notes. Whereas the stage was a blank slate in the audition and initial rehearsal phases, as rehearsals slowly progressed toward the opening of the show, it gradually underwent metamorphosis. It was transformed from a neutral, snug space into a rather exotic, but highly credible place familiar, yet new, to the audience. This transformation occurred one step at a time as various sets, set pieces, props, properties, special effects, lighting, and sound cues

were added to the scene. Eventually actors and stage managers migrated from the house to their new homes back stage where they incubated on their roles, socialized, and/or hung out until they were ready to execute their jobs. Other areas of the stage then opened up for use, such as dressing rooms, a shop area adjacent to the stage right wing, and a lighting booth in front of and above the house.

When the crew entered the space, they created a new synergy for the group. Some crew and cast members seemed to clash, engendering a period of mostly minor conflicts among a small cluster of folks.

Conflicts centered around role ambiguity primarily—for example, which crew members were in charge of which tasks, and how were cast members expected to interact with and respond to the authority of certain crew members? How people were treated was part of the bases for these clashes as well—for example, how did cast members expect others to treat them, and how were they expected to treat others? Some cast members were self-centered and patronizing toward the crew just as some crew members were bossy and arrogant toward cast members. Beebe et al. (2000) would call such clashes “ego-conflicts” because they are based on individuals’ tendencies to challenge each other’s leadership or power, which in turn leads to diminished cooperation and increased competition. These kinds of conflicts grew out of simple points over which individuals were unable to agree and thus felt personally attacked and defensive.

Tuckman (1965) would refer to this stage of group formation as the “storming” stage, the second stage in his four-phase process. Other phases noted by Tuckman include “forming” first, “norming” third, and “performing” fourth. However, crew, aside from the costume designer and her assistant, entered the production process only the week prior to performance. The costume design folks were in the field from nearly the beginning of rehearsals. Other designers for sets, lights, sound, and special effects were faculty members or departmental employees who were involved in the process from the beginning, but behind the scenes until technical rehearsals neared. Crew, in particular, were part of the process for two and a half weeks prior to opening night, and then for the full week and a half run of performances. This afforded the cast and crew very little time to clarify roles and build solid working relationships.

Research Data Analysis

Over two thousand pages of field observation and interview data were collected as part of this investigation of how actors/performers developed acting and/or performing roles within a musical theatre context. Sorting through such a steep stack of information involved the execution of several key steps over the course of approximately ten months. First, while remaining open to all available data and analysis methods, I recalled Patton’s (1990) advise: “It is important to review notes on decisions that were made during the conceptual part of the evaluations” (p. 375). After these initial questions and notes were reviewed, answers and issues that resurfaced again peaked my attention.

In addition, locating recurrent patterns or themes involved an intimate understanding of the data, which was cultivated by reading and re-reading it thoroughly, and by coding it using handwritten methods. Specifically, the coding method employed involved the assignment of self-selected symbols for various categories of data, both for what helped and what hindered role development for actors/performers. Together with a careful review of the initial questions for this research, re-readings of the data not only served to refresh my memory of the overarching purpose(s) and what could be gleaned from the findings of this study, but ultimately what should be included in an initial concept paper outlining key themes uncovered from the data.

My concept paper was based on a preliminary analysis of data from approximately one-third of all data collected for the study. Specifically, the analysis consisted of a cursory review of twenty-three interview transcriptions and a detailed review of half of them. In addition, I reviewed a half dozen field observations spread out over the beginning, middle, and end of the production process. These analyses produced an initial outline of patterns, themes, or concepts that then became the basis of discussions with various colleagues and committee members regarding how to limit focus for this project.

Once again, this ethnography was designed to ascertain what helped and what hindered actors/performers in their role development within a musical theatre production. Based on this initial

survey of date, the following list of the major subcategories grew out of these two main areas of investigation.

What helped? What hindered?

1. Confidence boosters 1. Anxiety & life stress

2. Humor 2. Immature attitudes & actions

3. Leadership 3. Leadership

4. Learning opportunities 4. Learning conflicts

5. Compromises & Collaboration 5. Competition & conflicts

6. Enhancements in performance 6. Drawbacks in performance

&/or production elements &/or production elements

7. Effective rehearsals 7. Ineffective rehearsals

After a cursory inspection, these two categories appeared to be dichotomous. However, more careful analyses revealed that some of what seemed to hinder role development might actually help it.

For example, some participants measured success in terms of the degree of difficulty they had to endure in achieving something. As Festinger notes, if they succeeded in spite of difficulties, their performances were viewed as even more laudatory (Myerhoff, 1982). Others possessed definitions of “excellence” which provided for success despite many difficulties that could impede their outcomes. Conversely, a few individuals’ definitions of “excellence” were nearly unattainable. Furthermore, close observations demonstrated that hindrances often became valuable learning vehicles.

Additional synthesis of the information within the two categories of what helped and what hindered actors’/performers’ roles and performances allowed me to develop the following areas of emphasis. As potential pathways to understanding participants’ experiences, these categories were selected based on how often information recurred on a theme and how rich the data was per category.

Surprisingly, more data existed within the anxiety-and-confidence category than initially anticipated.

Note that confidence builders and a subcategory of it—humor—were both seen as aids in helping to

develop acting and/or performance roles, whereas anxiety and perhaps a subcategory of it—conflicts— were both seen as hindrances in developing acting and/or performing roles. There was balance in terms of aids and hindrances, which seemed characteristic of the production process observed.

Data from the present study overall then was social and relational rather than psychological and individualistic. The ultimate classroom, in the case of the acting, voice, and dance students, was the stage. In light of this analogy, everyone was a teacher. Still, all the themes or patterns uncovered in this study appeared to encourage student learning, especially those that provided immediate and rich feedback, and helped to maintain positive affect.

After various discussions with colleagues and committee members, I found that the subtopic of humor would be the best focus for this paper, given that humor encompassed key categories worth pursuing, such as stress and anxiety, competition and conflicts, and confidence boosters. Moreover, humor is related to various other areas of interest in this study, such as socializing processes, emotional management techniques, creativity and play, and ritual and superstitions.

To develop codes for the humor category and its subcategories, I solicited the help of five colleagues to analyze data in more detail. These five individuals were all teaching faculty in higher education. Two possessed masters and three possessed doctoral degrees. Their areas of specialization included educational anthropology, linguistics, sociology, psychology, and business. I was interested in varied viewpoints from at least a handful of faculty members so as to provide cross-validation of codes.

This external coder strategy, as alluded to by Spradley (1980), was seen as a means of enhancing the final coding process, given it afforded me the opportunity to analyze areas of convergence and divergence in coding, which could not be done alone. I became part of the group of experts working independently on coding all of the humor data. However, while I made final decisions regarding all coding selections, given my firsthand experiences in the field, my decisions were informed and enhanced by the additional coding choices from these external coders.

Prior to triangulating data for this study, I entered all group codes into the computer. Interview data on humor was hand-cut out of the field observation and interview data, and separated into files for each participant. Coders coded independently, but in the presence of other group members. Group members used a legal pad to record interview numbers, pages, and line numbers along with their coding choices for each piece of humor data. I then entered these codes into the computer chronologically according to interviewees one through twenty-three and in the order in which participants’ responses regarding humor occurred. Coders were rotated in a consistent order per interview as well. Field observations were left in tact. That is, external coders thumbed through all pages of data while looking for the humor symbol—right-handed brackets—to locate pertinent humor data. They then wrote their codes for each piece of humor data in the margins of their copies. I again computer recorded these codes in chronological order for observations (one through forty) in the order in which the data occurred in the notes. Likewise, I recorded my own codes using the same format.

So what I ended up with was four computer files—two for field observation data and two for interview data. One file in each category was dedicated to listing the coders’ labeling of categories in chronological order by field observation (FO) or interview (IN), including page and line numbers as well.

There was an additional file per category that included my own category labels according to the number of the FO or IN.

All data across interviews and field observations were re-categorized into the numerous subcategories developed as a result of these initial codes. This work was done by hand using the pencil and paper method of analysis. Layers of categories were developed as such. Eventually, overarching patterns and structures were generated for the current study. In addition, an intricate index for writing about these patterns and structures was developed as related to data and research literature. When reporting specific examples from such data, however, I referred back to the initial indexes the coders and

I developed, using page numbers first, then the designation FO or IN, and finally the number of the FO or

IN. For example, 16FO33 would refer to page sixteen of field observation number thirty-three. The

same indexing format was used for graffiti (GR) and photographs (PH). This referencing format was applied for my purposes only rather than included in this dissertation.

I then set about comparing and contrasting codes assigned by group members and myself. After careful analysis of all codes, I developed a set of categories and subcategories for humor. First, data fell into two broad categories, types of humor and functions of humor. The category of types of humor was broken down into subcategories, including victimization or disparaging humor, sexual humor, improvisational play, adolescent versus adult humor, verbal humor, physical humor, and graphic humor.

This category also subsumed individual preferences for humor and when humor occurred throughout the production process. The category of functions of humor was subdivided into subcategories, including humor as a means of stress reduction, as a socializing function, as a way of regulating moods and emotions and of managing competition, conflicts, and criticisms, as a form of ritual and superstition, as a catalyst to creativity and spontaneity, and as a technique for role development. Each of these subcategories was then further subdivided into major and minor categories.

Once data codes were translated into a detailed set of categories and subcategories, it was tested using methods of triangulation to determine the level of confidence with which conclusions could be drawn. Key categories were then prioritized in the order of how prevalent they were within the data.

Prevalence or frequency was equated with the strength of the concept.

Naturally, conclusions can be determined using only degrees of probability based on how strongly certain patterns or themes emerged from the data. Two basic types of triangulation, as noted by

Berg (1995) and Spradley (1980), were employed: between-method and within-method triangulation.

Between-method triangulation involved the discovery of overlapping patterns between at least two out of three areas of data collection, namely between interviews, observations, and/or textual or visual materials.

In addition, within-method triangulation, at times subordinate and at other times a leading form of analysis, focused on one data-collection area, such as interviews. All interviews, for instance, were analyzed for overlapping patterns to establish convergent validation on an individual-by-individual case

basis and a cross-case basis. The cross-case method involved grouping participants’ answers to common questions by comparing and contrasting their perspectives on similar issues. The individual case method was effective for determining similar themes across different questions, and when a participant deviated from the norm. Thus, both between- and within-methods of triangulation proved useful.

More specifically, it may be helpful to note how data was collected and recorded prior to uncovering how it was coded. First, regarding field observations, minimal note taking was engaged in initially while in the field. This early note taking was done using pencil and paper methods. Later notes then were computer recorded by the researcher using standard qualitative formats—heading per page, line and page numbers, double spacing. By the third week, since participants appeared to be habituated to me,

I took notes directly on a laptop computer operated from a private space within the darkened theatre house. Reflective notes and some additional notes not captured on site were immediately entered into the computer following exit from the field. Second, all interviews were recorded on audiocassette tapes.

Later these tapes were professionally transcribed using standard qualitative formats.

Both field observations and interview data were recorded in chronological order by date, time, and order of events. Later the data was regrouped, as appropriate, according to key themes and issues. In addition, field and interview data were indexed and stored in triplicate files, including one hard copy, a hard drive version, and two floppy disk versions.

Finally, written documents, including the play script and musical score, handouts, brochures, reports, and photographs were filed in manila files and duplicated whenever possible. Photographs of audition, rehearsal, and performance spaces also were useful. A videotape of the performance was secured. All other materials complemented and/or validated information already contained in field observation and/or interview records.

Additionally, I used Corbin and Strauss’ (1990) open coding to interpret external coders’ codes as well as my own. Open coding, as defined by Corbin et al., involved the process of analyzing data in order to break it down into categories, to examine, compare, and contrast it in light of other data, then to

conceptualize about it. Conceptualizing involved locating labels for the phenomena that I observed, whether the labels were created or adopted from scholarly literature. Categories represented concepts that when compared to other concepts were found to group together into higher order and more abstract classes or divisions of information.

Once data was conceptualized and categorized, characteristics or attributes of the category could be determined, and properties of those characteristics could be broken down into dimensions along a continuum. For example, given the category of humor and stress reduction, I looked at the frequency with which humor was used to reduce stress (often to never), the extent to which it was used (more or less), the duration of its use (long or short), and/or the intensity of its use (high or low). Not all of this information was available or pertinent, but what could be used from such an analysis was used.

Corbin’s et al. (1990) axial coding was employed to a certain degree as well to determine the overarching design of the data. That is, by focusing on connections between and among categories and their subcategories, data was transformed into a new format for conceiving of it. This was done while considering various factors—phenomena uncovered by this study, causal conditions, the context within which data was gathered, and intervening conditions that facilitated or constrained strategies used by participants. The result of axial coding was the discovery of the major classification system for the current study. For example, three major classifications external to the participants are addressed—the structures and processes of the musical theatre production, who engaged in humor and how, and insights into what the relationship between humor and seriousness was. Since these three categories constitute the spine or through-line of the study, they have been labeled the data’s infrastructure. Two other major classifications internal to the participants were discovered as well—what contributed to participants’ stress, tensions, and/or anxieties, and what helped participants cope with their stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. Since these two categories relate to participants’ individual experiences as observed and personally reported, they are referred to as interior spaces. Building on this architectural metaphor then, it

is appropriate to refer to the actual examples of participant behavior described in the study’s findings in

Chapter 3 as the furnishings of the building or house that has been created.

Furthermore, as Berg (1995) notes, recurrent patterns or themes became central categories in a content analysis—that is, a count of the frequency of recurring themes and their logical arrangement from most to least prominent using an analytic inductive reasoning framework. Following the work of Miles and Huberman (1994), an outlined display of categories noted above was used to describe, predict, and draw conclusions about content categories. In addition, as Smith (1988) points out, both manifest and latent content was uncovered from the thick data descriptions, including, respectively, surface themes and structures as well as the deeper values, intentions, and personality traits.

Finally, an extensive review of literature was conducted as related to the concepts of play and humor. These readings informed me about the breadth and depth of research and insights known at this time on key humor codes or categories used in the analysis. In addition, some literature revealed insights into the emic (insider) versus etic (outsider) views inherent in the data, a significant aspect of the research-before-theory approach pertinent to qualitative research designs, according to Berg (1995). This literature then was paired up with findings where possible.

Entering and Exiting the Research Sites

Prior to searching for a research site, I submitted an Institutional Review Board (IRB) proposal, as required. This document talked about the nature of this project and extent of interaction with human subjects. The proposal was successful. Once IRB approval was secured, I conducted a thorough search among colleges and universities within the region regarding their line up of theatre productions for the year. This was followed by a careful assessment per site of how well institutional time frames coincided with my needs. A musical theatre production presented in the Spring or Summer terms was ideal. In addition, a standard musical theatre production—one originated on Broadway or in the West End—was preferable to an original or new playwright’s work due to less complicated means of establishing its ability to meet the tests of criticisms and reviews and to play to audiences. Surprisingly, there were fewer

choices regionally than anticipated, hence rather than gaining entrée into a site in the Spring or Summer, I had to defer to a site in the Autumn of the following year for data collection.

Once the site was determined, gaining entrée into it was smooth and unencumbered. Entree required a meeting with the Department Head of the appropriate theatre arts department in question.

After I explained my project, we had an opportunity to discuss questions and to pinpoint an appropriate block of time to confer with others who would be affected by my project. The Department Head agreed to grant consent to begin the project a priori. Specifically, I was granted permission to enter the site the first night of auditions and to remain in the field until the end of the production. I further was granted permission to conduct one-on-one interviews with any given number of participants deemed appropriate while in the field. All interviews were to be held following the production. Finally, the Department Head agreed to allow me access to written documents relevant to my research.

Planning commenced with the Artistic Director of the musical theatre production to be researched. It was decided that I would present my research plan at one of the first three musical rehearsals for this production. At this time, I would discuss my informed consent form and request signatures on them. I made my presentation at the second musical rehearsal. Cast members and staff were respectful and upbeat as I focused on the following ethical considerations discussed in more detail below. In the days that followed this meeting, each designated participant, save one, signed and returned an informed consent form to me.

First, participants were informed of their right to refuse to participate or to withdraw participation in this study at any time without penalty. Verbal or written requests for termination could be made directly to me. When a participant did refuse or withdrew their participation, I promised to erase any and all data recorded about the participant up until the time of their withdrawal, and/or to refrain from recording subsequent data about them. Naturally, no information about such participants was reported formally or informally whether orally or in writing. In addition, should a participant have any questions

or concerns, they were provided with the names and telephone numbers of the researcher’s advisor, the

Chair of the University’s IRB Committee, and me.

Second, although I foresaw no risks to participants in this study, discussing informed consent with them served the beneficial opportunity of making them aware of the nature and scope of the project.

I noted that this project was a dissertation in partial fulfillment for a doctoral degree that was under the supervision of a dissertation committee. In addition, I elaborated on the ethnographic nature and purpose of this project, the multiple types of data to be collected and participants’ overall rights. Further, it was noted that my presence was meant neither to interrupt production or rehearsal activities nor to infringe on individual rights and responsibilities. As such, I promised to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

For the sake of simplicity, one version of an informed consent form was used for all participants.

Consent required each participant’s signature. Then copies of the informed consent forms were provided to those who requested them. Signed contracts were received from the head of the department within which the research was conducted as well as the artistic and musical directors, three stage managers, and eighteen actors/performers.

Third, regarding confidentiality, all participants were apprised of their rights. For one, I explained that all information gleaned from observations or any person or document, whether conveyed orally, in writing, or on audio- or videotape, would be kept strictly confidential. I noted that sometimes confidentiality might involve refraining from reporting certain data that clearly would reveal the identity of a key participant. At other times, it might involve reporting data with discretion. In addition, to ensure anonymity, I promised to use mock names for all individuals, characters, events, locations, texts, or any other data requiring anonymity in all instances of informal or formal reference, whether orally or in writing. Further, it was noted that I would keep all data stored in a private and secure environment.

Moreover, I was noted to have primary access to written or technologically recorded data.

Fourth, regarding interviewing participants, I noted initially that I would interview some, but perhaps not all, participants. I noted that whether one was selected to be interviewed or not would not

reflect negatively on them. Further, I explained that there were no right or wrong answers to any interview questions, thus participants should relax and feel free to be themselves and to respond openly and honestly. I promised too that everything revealed would be valuable, interesting, and free from judgment.

Although the duration of field observations coincided directly with the number of weeks (seven), days per week (typically six), and hours per day (approximately four) that participants were in session, interviews lasted from one to three hours. Initially, participants were told that interviews would last no more than approximately two hours each. As promised, interviews were conducted at times and locations convenient for them. They occurred over the span of approximately a month rather than two weeks, however. Once in the field for seven weeks, the researcher determined that it was preferable to interview all participants one-on-one, given they appeared to have equal weight in terms of issues to be pursued.

Moreover, since most interviews in qualitative research are tape recorded, participants were asked to voluntarily give permission to audiotape their one-on-one interviews. However, I emphasized that any participant’s decision to decline tape recording in sum or in part would be honored without question.

Everyone gave voluntary permission, providing me with implied consent to audiotape each. This allowed me to recall discussions accurately, to interpret meanings insightfully, and, importantly, to obtain interview transcriptions.

After having been in the field for all auditions and rehearsals, I prepared to exit the production the final week of performances. Specifically, on the seventh day of performances, I set up a meal for all participants approximately two and a half hours prior to the start of the production. This meal, which was announced informally a few days previously and formally the day before it was being served, was a gesture of appreciation and thanks to all who had agreed to participate during both the field observation and upcoming interview phases of my project. Even a few technical staff members, although not part of this research, were invited to and gladly did join us. It appeared too that, given the production would end in four days, participants were becoming cognizant that the group would soon disperse, heading off to

begin new projects and/or to ease back into routine college and departmental life. Thus, the meal helped to signal the end of the production process for this musical as well.

As part of my exit protocol, I mounted a sign-up sheet for the first time in a highly traveled and visible area on the same evening that the meal was catered. Participants were to select time slots in the weeks ahead for their personal interviews. By the end of the production, I contacted the several actors/performers via telephone or in person who had not already scheduled an interview. Despite best intentions, one performer, who was very difficult to reach, was not interviewed until two months after the rest of the interviews were completed.

After each interview, participants were thanked abundantly, complimented on their achievements, and sent away with best wishes. Moreover, each participant was asked if I could call on them again, should questions arise during data analyses and/or writing phases of the thesis. All openly conceded to make themselves available to me. Additionally, I encouraged participants to contact me should they have any questions or need additional information.

Self-Reflective Analysis of the Research Process

As I entered the field, I was conscientious about conducting business as unobtrusively as possible. As such, I wore dark, casual clothing similar to that worn by the participants. I carried a bag, and later a backpack on wheels, that concealed notepads, pens, the show’s libretto and musical score, informed consent forms, and a variety of other items.

Furthermore, especially in the beginning, I sat close to participants so as not to miss hearing key information, but not so close that I would interrupt activities. It took a little time and various adjustments to find the right distance. Of course, as time went by, participants habituated to me, making close proximity less problematic. As the show neared dress/technical rehearsals, I increased my distance from the performers to approximately the middle of the auditorium. Once performances began, I sat in different spots in the back of the house.

After over three weeks of observations, my already distressed neck and back became irritated from hours of sitting, note taking, typing. As a result, I ended up taking my laptop computer into the field to type field notes. The first night with the laptop was a trial run to make sure that no one was bothered by the presence of my computer. No one flinched. Neither director expressed concern, and most participants appeared uninterested. In fact, those participants who commented indicated that bringing the laptop was a good idea. After the first two nights using the laptop, I decided that I needed my own keyboard in lieu of the laptop’s. Thus, by the first technical rehearsal I was armed with a laptop, a separate keyboard, and a portable table. This equipment created the right height and ergonomics for my arms and hands, and relieved most of my back pain. I continued to use this system of note taking for six rehearsals. Then the show opened, and it was necessary for me to revert back to taking notes on a legal pad until the end of performances.

Both the artistic director and, to a lesser degree, the musical director were open and amenable to talking with me about the University, the Department, individual performers and themselves, and the production. This was especially true early in the rehearsal process when everyone was less pressured and hurried. Their input was extremely helpful throughout the production as well as during their personal interviews. I was indebted to both for enlightening me beyond what I was able to discover on my own.

More detail about each director is discussed below.

The musical director was an open and personable person who viewed his role in this production as that of challenging students to stretch vocally, musically, and theatrically. He viewed this production as doable, given the artistic director’s excellent skills at recruiting quality talent, but a demanding show nonetheless. This show reportedly was a kind that the Department had been urged to do for some time.

He felt that, if he would have had more time with the actors/performers and the orchestra, he could have done a better job, since he likes to instruct and work with the details of good singing form. He was a bit handicapped from doing this, however, due to time constraints. Also casting decisions were very difficult for this production. Mainly casting difficulties arose from the demands of the singing roles, and an

inability to find talent that could sing as well as act the parts. After hours of deliberating about various casting plans, final decisions were posted. Though some got at least one of the roles they desired, not everyone received the part they wanted. Others were given larger roles than anticipated. So actors’/performers’ reactions ran the gamut from hot to cold.

The artistic director also was personable and open. He was most helpful in terms of filling me in about Departmental programs, policies, and practices. Further, he was able to talk about students in the production in terms of their majors, their personalities, their talents, why he cast them, and how they fit into the production.

The artistic director possessed a passionate desire to move things along quickly during rehearsals.

Hence he blocked and choreographed at a fast pace. Then he had his actors/performers run the scenes and acts repeatedly. Breaks, like notes, were kept at a minimum. Note giving sessions proceeded in a thorough yet brisk manner. This director gave informative notes both at general rehearsals and during

Green Room sessions.

However, sometimes it seemed that the artistic director moved so quickly that he neglected to fully talk with and listen to others and their needs. For example, he limited the number of musical rehearsals to three. The time spent on voice and music at blocking rehearsals thereafter only consisted of the first half hour. Contrary to this practice, most students as well as the musical director would have liked a week’s worth of music rehearsals, and more dedicated time for voice and music rehearsals in general. The students also would have liked more direction regarding their characters and how their roles fit into the show as a whole. So both the students and the musical director wanted the following—more attention to the music, clearer communication about the controlling concept or vision for the production, and more guidance regarding actors’/performers’ roles.

I recognized that a shortage of time and/or energy contributed to certain activities being left out and/or to misunderstandings occurring. For example, time constraints reportedly caused a few actors to meet privately with the artistic director to discuss their roles, as he had asked them to do at the onset of

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rehearsals. Some met with him formally in his office, some had an informal conversation with him at rehearsals or elsewhere, but many had no contact directly with the director.

Early on I noted several areas with the potential for further investigation. One of them was humor. Humor appeared to foster informal communication between and among students, faculty, and staff. What propelled humor? What role(s) did it play academically, professionally, personally, and socially in the lives of participants? How, to what extent, and why did it help with role development?

These were some of the questions generated from observations of humor.

Positive communication was another issue of interest. Since the atmosphere was characteristically positive early on, I had to avoid a social psychological bias toward negative phenomena, and purposefully look for what was positively operative. I considered signs of healthy behavior, such as self-efficacy, self-esteem, self-actualization, and various personality traits. It further was recognized that humor might serve as a foundation to positive interactions because it seemed to help foster a positive working climate.

A number of other questions were raised in my mind during field observations. For example, the focus of the research was ever present on my mind: what helped and/or hindered these young actors/performers in terms of developing their stage roles? What was their level of talent, how much structure or lack of it did they need to work, and how would their own perceptions as well as those of others play into successfully developing their characters? Another interesting question was what drove these young actors/performers? Why were they majoring in theatre or music; what did they want to do with such degrees? How did the risks they took on stage translate into the risks they would choose or be forced to take in life? How did their fears in the show relate to fears in their real lives? In addition, I was interested in how the directors produced excellent acting, singing, and dancing. How much would they push actors/performers? What rehearsal methods would they employ?

As time went by, I made various notes regarding certain logistics involved in this project. For example, first, I took copious notes, but was unable to record information exactly as it was heard. So

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field notes, in general, and all quotations from them, in particular, are approximations of what transpired, not exact records. In addition, time prohibited proofreading field notes on a regular basis, but since notes were taken immediately following observations in most cases, the accuracy of them was rated as at least good. Second, I secured and made two copies of all paperwork generated or collected, whether field notes or written texts from the production. Third, various preparations for mapping and/or photographing rehearsal spaces, including the dance classroom and main stage theatre, were arranged.

Fourth, gaining signatures from participants on informed consent forms took some effort. One gentleman initially declined participation, but eventually reconsidered and agreed to participate. Another declined participation altogether, and, although one technical person agreed to sign a form, I was unable to obtain a signature, even after various reminders. Many signed and turned in their consent forms early, but there were half a dozen individuals who turned them in only after repeated requests for them.

In addition, I was interested in and concerned about building trust, acceptance, and rapport with participants. Although I wondered where they went and what they did at break times, I hesitated to follow them in the event that that would create distrust and/or irritation. I did not use mock names until writing my thesis so there would be no slippage in calling participants by their pseudonyms rather than by their real names. In order to get to know participants and to glean insights for further participants interviews, I tried to talk to participants nightly in public in at least safe, ritualized ways. Although the informed consent form indicated that I would not distract participants from their work, conversing with them was viewed as a natural phenomenon that served constructive functions, such as reducing uncertainty about me as a researcher and building rapport.

One participant was noted to demonstrate avoidant behaviors, avoiding my glances, sitting far away from the rest of the group, engaging in little dialogue with others. Another participant found it difficult to appreciate the humor in a segment of a rehearsal one night that the avoidant participant and I found terribly amusing. I worried that my open laughter was viewed as judgmental, yet it was hard to refrain from laughing. Other participants perpetually wanted to invite me into humorous events and/or to

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recount such events to me. Usually they also wanted my opinion about the show in general rather than their work specifically. However, I maneuvered with a sense of caution about sharing my ideas and feelings openly.

However, I did engage in a couple of activities that helped to build rapport with participants. For one, I attended a social gathering off campus one evening with eight to ten folks. In addition, I questioned and interacted with participants throughout the process. I also planned a party for the research participants prior to the seventh performance as a way of thanking them for their participation. For another, I spent one evening backstage. It seemed evident that the cast and crew were unaffected by my presence. It appeared that since they were able to act freely around me, it primed them to be themselves in my presence in other contexts. Although the artistic director did not like me spending the evening backstage, my consent form indicated that I would likely do so. So the stage managers approved of my viewing the show from the wings, and were good to instruct me in where to sit or stand for safety purposes.

As a researcher, I further worried about protecting participants by avoiding revealing anything that would identify them, even the name or nature of the play performed. How to write research results without breaching confidentiality became a topic for discussion with colleagues. It was determined that I might write my thesis without concern for confidentiality, and then go back and rewrite it with great attention to protecting the rights of the participants in terms of confidentiality. In the end, this was not entirely necessary, though I did edit and rewrite with confidentiality in mind.

Sample Bias

As in most qualitative research, the data collected from such a usually small sample of participants cannot be generalized beyond those individuals and the setting within which they were observed. The cultures into which we enter to collect qualitative data reflect the peculiar biases of those who inhabit the culture. Thus, we are faced with a biased sample from the onset. The individuals that I observed may possess common ground with other actors/performers elsewhere, but separating factors

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unique to their culture from areas of generalizability or transferability is impossible without some kind of meta-analysis, a combination of quantitative and qualitative data collection, and/or close adherence to already established research findings. And even then, generalizability is tenuous, given we are dealing with a nonrandom sample.

The actors described within this study represented an intact group which may have systematically differed from actors elsewhere. It was unclear why they selected this University Department, and why the

Department selected them. Differences from other populations in terms of talent, SES, or IQ, for example, remained unknown, though such differences threatened both internal and external validity. For this reason, I had to adhere closely to research findings when analyzing data and drawing conclusions.

Further, data from individuals outside of the Theatre Department were not collected, even though this might have included those who did not succeed in or who were dissatisfied with the Department. In fact, the only information obtained was from and about the individuals who were participating in the musical theatre production under investigation. These individuals were succeeding in the Department and planned to continue in it, though they registered some criticisms about it.

Furthermore, interview schedules for directors and stage managers were separate from the actors’ schedules in part to allow unbiased feedback about varying perceptions between and among these three groups. Such interview data also helped to add levels of analysis useful for triangulating information, eliminating researcher tunnel vision, and ultimately limiting bias.

Naturally, a variety of participant interviews coupled with repeated field observations and numerous photographs, maps, and written texts aided me in controlling sample bias. This foundation was strengthened by using between as well as within methods of triangulation to discover, respectively, overlapping themes between at least two out of three areas of data and recurrent themes within like data, such as interview data.

Additionally, I was straightforward with participants concerning ethical issues. I attempted to make subjects comfortable, to remain nonjudgmental and unobtrusive while in the field, to adhere to

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principles of objective research, and to refrain from altering my research plans so as to avoid unnecessarily altering perceptions of the project, the research process, or myself.

My very presence in the field did not seem to create a large experimenter-expectancy bias or the

Hawthorn effect. First, regarding experimenter-expectancy bias, I directly questioned participants about my effect on them as part of my interview questions. Whether this bias was in effect was inconclusive, since participants’ views were contradictory. There most likely was some effect, but the extent of it was nebulous. Some experimenter-expectancy bias may have been offset by my attempt to dress, act, and speak like participants and to attend all phases of the production process. By blending in, and always being there, participants habituated to me. Their familiarity with me lessened some of this threat to internal validity.

Second, regarding the Hawthorn effect, participants may have acted differently, the way they thought I wanted them to act, simply because they were aware that they were being observed. However, although they were informed about the research process, they were unaware of specific areas of interest that surfaced during observations. Naturally participants could have gleaned insights into the nature of the study through my interview questions. Still I used an array of general questions to offset the

Hawthorn effect by informing participants that they were free to reveal anything they chose. There were no rights or wrongs, and every response would be valuable and interesting. In essence, honesty was emphasized as the best policy.

Conclusions

The methodological basis, then, for this study is broadly ethnographic, employing generally accepted techniques and constraints in collecting data while observing subjects engaged in a musical- theatre production in a mid-sized, Midwestern university. I collected this data through field observations and interviews with twenty-three subjects involved in this production. The recorded data was then coded by five experts and analyzed by this researcher and viewed in relation to a wide range of relevant literature. Instead of theory leading the search for conclusions, the coded data was allowed “to speak for

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itself.” What emerged as the central findings centered on the role of humor in enhancing or inhibiting the development of each subject’s performance.

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Chapter 3

RESULTS

Chapter 3 presents the findings of the current study, which explore the role of humor as a means of regulating stress, tensions, and anxieties within a musical theatre context. Actors/ performers remain at the center of the study. In addition, the musical theatre production’s directors and stage managers are given consideration as are, to a lesser degree, the designers, crew, and myself, the researcher, involved in the production.

The following outline for this Chapter presents elements of both the infrastructure and the interior spaces that existed after careful analysis of field observations, interviews, and written or photographic documents. An architectural metaphor was adopted in order to provide coherence to the overarching design of the current study. Specifically, the main building blocks of this study included three key elements of its infrastructure, the externally observable elements: (a) a close look at rehearsal and production structures and processes, (b) the participants themselves in terms of who engaged in humor and how, and (c) how participants responded either humorously or seriously to each other during the production process as based on its structure, inherent stressors, and who they were individually.

Moreover, by the interior spaces of the study—the internal, subjective experiences reported by the subjects or observed by me—I refer to how humor increased and decreased participants’ experiences of stress, tensions, and anxieties, such as: (a) what contributed to participants’ stress, tensions, and anxieties, and (b) how humor was used to cope with these negative physical, mental, and/or emotional phenomena during the production process. More specifically, individual differences, elements of the production process, and criticisms, competition, and conflicts appear to have exacerbated participants’ levels of stress, tensions, and anxieties. Conversely, the following categories appear to have helped participants cope with such negative emotions: confidence or esteem boosters, socialization, regulation of

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moods and emotions, openness to creativity and spontaneity, and use of rituals and superstitions. The examples provided within this Chapter consist of the furnishings in our architectural metaphor.

The Infrastructure: Rehearsal and Production Structures and Processes

The participants themselves viewed humor as highly important to their theatre experiences in general, and also observed that specific contexts or situations within this particular musical theatre production helped to define or determine their patterns of humor usage. Examples of participants’ use of humor as related to the structural elements and processes of this production are presented below from opening auditions to casting and from various kinds of rehearsals to the end of performances. These examples are part of their experiences of what it was like to be a participant in this production. Many of these examples are appropriate for more than one category. However, I have elected to place them in typically one category, selected either by the goodness of fit or to avoid unnecessary redundancy.

Auditions

First Night

In the lobby outside the main stage theatre, students congregated at the top of the evening of the first night of auditions while waiting for a brief orientation session in the main stage theatre prior to dispersing to different rooms to audition. They sat on the floor or in cozy lobby chairs, and stood around independently, but more often in pairs or small groups of three or four. The approximately eighty students gathered there to audition spent their time talking, laughing, and semi-audibly practicing their monologues and/or songs. Some noticeably focused on their breathing in order to relax and/or prepare to speak and/or sing. One couple engaged in massaging each other’s shoulders. Others paced or roamed from coterie to coterie in anxious anticipation of performing. Females wore mainly dresses and skirts ranging from knee length to full length and high-heeled character or street shoes. Males’ dress ranged from dress shirts, ties, and slacks to tees and sweats. On their feet, males sported air soles, character

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shoes, or other soft-soled flats. Blacks, grays, and various shades of red were the dominant colors of participants’ attire.

A bit before 7:00 p.m., the Theatre Department Head addressed from the stage the group of approximately eighty students now seated in the main stage theatre. “Don’t get flustered. Enjoy tonight,” he asserted as a means of acknowledging everyone’s butterflies. He proceeded to introduce the person in charge of the audition logistics, the shows for which they would audition, and the audition format for the evening.

A new audition format was used this year involving three auditions in one evening—one each for a musical, a drama, and a workshop production. This new process may be described as a round robin wherein each actor/performer rotated from one audition space to another—for instance, from a dance classroom where this production’s auditions took place, to a black-box theatre, to a main stage theatre.

The rules of the audition game were complex, given each of the three auditions required different acting, singing, and/or dancing requirements. Though not all students were required to audition for all three, most were. Some of these students remarked about how taxing it was to audition for all three events in one evening, primarily because they had to mentally, emotionally, and physically juggle so many monologues and/or songs. Some did well in one session, but not so well in another. Some had trouble shifting gears and perhaps forgot lines or had trouble hitting emotional peaks. Most, however, rose to the occasion and, in the end, were comfortable completing their auditions for the semester in one evening.

Although this production’s auditions were held in a dance classroom, and some actors/performers had been told to wear comfortable clothing appropriate for moving, no dance combinations were given for solo or group demonstrations. The directors were aware of the movement and/or dance capabilities of many students, having worked with them previously. Other dance information could be gleaned from performance resumes. Plus this particular musical theatre piece involved comparably less dance than many musicals do.

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Thus, the requirements for the musical theatre audition consisted of a comic monologue as well as a comic or dramatic song that related to the content of the production. Some actors used scenes and/or songs from the actual production. Also most were allowed to sing more than the standard sixteen bars, perhaps a full song. As the evening was nearing its end, I noted on the one hand that comic monologues selected for the audition were youthful, energetic, and vivacious, normally not from the play to be produced. On the other hand, songs selected for auditions often consisted of selections from the production to be presented.

When some sessions fell behind, the round-robin format became a nightmare or a joke or something in between, according to some actors and staff. Others noted that the format was hard on the actors/performers because it was confusing and ultimately exhausting to perform. Again, actors/performers needed to prepare separate audition pieces per audition—quite a heavy load of material for one evening. One actor suggested that auditions for musical productions should have been held on a separate day from dramatic auditions because they take twice as long. One noted that auditions lasted so long because the musical theatre folks were allowed to sing full songs as opposed to sixteen bars.

Another actor/performer agreed that audition songs should only have been sixteen bars; he observed, “Hit a money note, show them what your range is, and that’s all you need to do for the music. I sat in the audition and watched people sing entire songs, and I wanted to scratch my eyeballs out.”

The first night of auditions, the artistic director, Ted, was particularly patient, polite, amiable, approachable, and accepting with prospective cast members. He greeted the evening with a light sprinkling of comments more akin to upbeat than humorous. For all seven rounds containing ten students each, he welcomed students, introduced himself and the musical director, and asked that they enunciate clearly so that they could be understood them readily. Several times he commented to students, “Please make this fun for yourselves. Pretend this is like a cocktail party where you have to perform, but it is casual with no consequences.”

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Even though the talent pool ran from mediocre at best to excellent, no one was cut off abruptly from performing either a song or monologue. All were treated with respect and dignity, despite the artistic director’s warnings. In advance of the third round, he stated that the audition coordinators kept telling him, “’You’re behind. You’re behind. You’re behind.’ So don’t be offended if I cut you off.”

Prior to the sixth round, Ted stated, “If I cut you off that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. [One of the audition coordinators] is on my case, and I want to be out of here by dawn.” Interestingly, even after repeated admonitions to speed up the process, Ted rarely stopped a performer short of their full-length song.

The musical director, Shawn, like the artistic director, was pleasant, polite, and patient and steadily accompanied student actors/performers on his upright piano with accuracy and finesse. He accommodated each student as they instructed him to do when they handed him the sheet music for their audition song. He consistently responded in a friendly and cooperative manner. An accomplished musician in his own right, Shawn had nothing to worry about in terms of sight-reading music or following the lead of the singers. His only worries reportedly revolved around finding enough males to meet the vocal demands of the show. He demonstrated this need by mock praying and cheering for more males.

Shawn always responded to actors/performers, the director, stage managers, and several other faculty and staff in the room in a friendly and cooperative manner. For instance, he brought ice teas to another faculty member and myself during one of our breaks. Although as the evening progressed, Shawn grew tired and prone to making mistakes, his disposition remained light and upbeat. At one point, he stopped and said, “That was terrible! Let me start that over or do that again. It’s getting late.” The second start was spotless, and the student remained cordial and accepting.

As a reflective note, the light tone of the directors this first evening led me to conclude that the auditions and perhaps the Department in general were very student-oriented, personable, and open. In addition, this conclusion was supported by the fact that two faculty members, who were not directing

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during the current term, along with the box office manager attended the entire audition process for moral support for the students.

Auditions and casting were stressful for many. Not only were tensions high during, but prior to auditions as well. Since auditions were reportedly tense and anxiety provoking, this first evening contained only snippets of humor. This first night of auditions was noticeably more tense and serious than the second night, presumably because there was greater stress and anxiety. The reasons for increased anxiety varied. One actress reported, “It’s okay for me to be nervous or not nervous for monologues. I care if I’m nervous for songs though because it takes a totally different breathing system. My voice will like quiver or go out, or I can’t hit the high notes, and I can hit them every other day.” Others also noted that singing was anxiety provoking. Some cited mental worry and competition as key reasons for their tensions. Yet others referred to fear of criticisms from authority figure..

By the fifth out of seven rounds, the artistic director, Ted, was noting that the word from the audition coordinators was that he was behind time, so he needed students to move quickly. We took a very short to nonexistent break. He then turned to the faculty, staff, and myself, and said wryly, “I can’t take it anymore. I’m getting tired of this.” Prior to the seventh and final round, he asked, “Are you the last group?” The five students there to audition chimed in, “Yes, we are the last group,” to which the director gleefully replied, “I’m very, very happy!” He made no introductions to the last group, rather he dove right into auditions after playfully reserving the right to call on these students in any order. After the round, Ted abruptly fell to the floor in front of his table, presumably fainting from exhaustion. Everyone burst into laughter. It had been a long night—four hours from the onset. It was then 11:00 p.m.

Callbacks

The second evening of auditions consisted of callbacks. This evening was noticeably more relaxed and informal than the night before. Student actors/performers humorously bantered back and forth, laughed a lot at each other as well as themselves, and prided themselves in their use of good come back lines. It was necessary to move in close to the stage of the main stage theatre in which these follow-

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up auditions took place in order to catch the quick bits of humorous dialogue transpiring between and among students and directors. Still I missed much of this repartee due to both its fast pace and difficulty hearing it.

Actors/performers were engaged in singing solo and in unison for this callback. The musical director accompanied them on a black, grand piano on the stage of the main stage theatre. Only a limited number of takes per role and a limited number of roles per person were rehearsed. Moreover, combinations of pairings of actors/performers were limited. However, there was enough humor cascading over the group that it was noted to be a potentially interesting area for investigation in terms of how it aided in informally improving communication between and among students, faculty, and staff.

At the top of the evening, the artistic director, Ted, introduced me to the stage manager, Peter, and one assistant stage manager for the production, Andrew. He noted that the lead stage manager would have ultimate authority in a dictatorial sense. He then quickly noted that as the director, he would be grading the student. “Just a tiny sword,” I replied, and we all chuckled. Ted also teased the musical director, Shawn, by proclaiming in front of everyone, “I like you, but I can’t see with your back blocking my view of the performers.” The musical director retorted that he did not have to move for obvious reasons. In addition, toward the end of one actress’s solo song, she was observed messing with her derriere. The males sitting in the house began to laugh, which of course only egged the actress on. So she wiggled her derriere and pranced around all the more causing an escalation of laughter and prompting several suggestive jokes from the males present, albeit they were unintelligible to me.

Additionally, once callback auditions were under way, various remarks from Ted suggested that he truly employed humor as a means of directing actors/ performers. For example, Ted wanted some male singers to embody a musical theatre singing style. “This is not a boys choir at the First Baptist

Church,” he retorted; later within the same segment of the audition he exclaimed, “Stop being so sweet!

Yuck!” Another time, Ted teased an actress that she sounded too intelligent in her song: “Sound stupider. Be dumber. This character is not so smart.” Prior to dismissing everyone, Ted asserted,

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“You’re free to go. I’m going over to [Random University] to pull in more people as possibilities.”

Threatening to go to Random University to recruit students or to send his students there was a standing joke among cast members and the directors.

Casting

Callbacks were short and sweet, but casting decisions between the directors were reportedly difficult and time consuming. Casting results created an array of responses from actors/performers: feelings ranged from delighted to okay to upset; some found the cast list controversial, others were devastated by it. The musical director, Shawn, used the word “traumatized.” He noted that many students were traumatized for as much as four days. He further noted that mid-level actors (those that fall in the middle of the talent pool) appeared to complain the most, finding it difficult to understand that even though they wanted a part, they may not have been prepared to sing or otherwise perform the part. He stated, “There is a lot of counseling that goes on in these kinds of situations . . . . It happens. That happens everywhere. One thing I like about this place from that point of view is that every professor keeps an open door policy.” The artistic director, Ted, chuckled and noted that he did not think that actors understood his casting. “No. Nor do I as an actor. Even directors. I’ve had other directors tell me that that’s wrong, and look at me like I’m crazy for casting someone as this or that. Sometimes I look at them, and think the same thing, you know. So . . . .”

The artistic and musical directors selected the cast for this production jointly. According to the directors, they spent hours deliberating on multiple casting configurations in an attempt to match the demands of the show with the vocal, acting, and perhaps dancing capabilities of the actors/performers.

The types of characters required by the show were compared to each actor’s/performer’s character type and to their talents. They also were compared to their goodness of fit with the directors’ visions for the production.

As a result of casting, actors/performers responded as follows in relation to the twenty speaking roles in the show. There also were two non-speaking roles not included in this study. First, one

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actor/performer did not receive the role he/she wanted, and therefore refused to participate in the production. This role was recast immediately. Second, another student thought that he/she had been promised one role, but was given another. This student complained to both directors. After venting, however, he/she settled for staying with the newly assigned role. A third actor/performer thought that he/she should have been cast in double roles. He/she questioned the directors about this, and was told that there never had been any interest in double casting the roles in question. This actor agreed to stay with his/her assigned role, although he/she continued to believe that the double casting idea was preferable, since it had been done in the original Broadway production. Ted asserted that he did not double cast these roles because he wanted to open up a role to yet another actor. Several other students received roles other than those they wanted, but they adapted to their actual casting quickly. It is interesting to note that seven performers did receive the single production role they desired, and five reported that they would have been happy with any role. Two students said that they were vying for a couple of roles, and, fortunately, received one of the roles they desired. Finally, there were two roles that were double cast—only one of which had to remain as such. From my perspective, everyone adapted to the assigned roles without noticeable difficulty.

Rehearsals

A discussion of various types of rehearsals inherent in the process of this musical theatre production follows. First, we will explore musical rehearsals, both the first three evening sessions devoted exclusively to music and singing and later musical warm-up sessions at the start of each blocking rehearsal. Second, we will look at a complex type of rehearsal—blocking and choreographic rehearsals.

Blocking and choreographic rehearsals may be subdivided into the following sections: Acts’ I and II blocking instructions, Acts’ I and II choreographic instructions, run-throughs, notes, and breaks. Third, we will discuss stagger-through rehearsals, and fourth, technical and/or dress rehearsals.

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Musical Rehearsals

First three evening sessions.

The first three evenings of musical rehearsals were held in the same dance classroom used for auditions. Plastic stack chairs were arranged in a large, semi-circular formation around an upright piano.

To the right of the circle, the stage managers sat at a six-foot fold-up table. I sat against the same wall, but not at their table. The musical director, of course, was at the piano, and the artistic director made himself scarce, dropping in from time to time from his office close by to check on the group’s progress and to enjoy some respite from his work.

The artistic director, Ted, introduced the first of three evenings of musical rehearsals in a sincere, cordial, and upbeat manner. He then called me to the floor to talk about my project. I was startled, given my directive had been to address the group the third evening. Still my presentation proceeded as planned.

I discussed the nature of my project and presence, their potential involvement, and informed consent.

However, when I clarified that I would be observing plus interviewing some, but not necessarily all, participants, many began to whimper with mock disappointment. I retorted positively, “I may interview everyone, who knows. That’s a possibility.” Indeed, that is what I did in the end based on this and other rationale.

Next the musical director, Shawn, introduced the show and himself. As all the actors sat on their stack chairs in a large semi-circle around the piano, the musical director launched into one of the hardest songs in the show—the finale of Act I. As he began, he explained that his method of instruction would involve: (a) rhythm first, (b) musical notes second, and (c) words third. He commenced with a talk through in rhythm. The group dove into the exercise with no piano accompaniment, only rhythmical talking, counting, and conducting. As they progressed, many laughed at the brisk and tricky rhythms that were harder to follow than expected. Shawn stopped and said, “Guys, why are you singing and not me?”

“Speak it out. No pitch,” he continued. All the while, he worked on clear enunciation, giving everyone permission to stop him for questions or to slow him down when necessary.

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After working through their first song, the artistic director, Ted, who largely remained outside the dance hall each of these first three rehearsals, entered to ask each cast member to introduce him/herself.

He asked for names, their role(s) in the show, and something funny about themselves that others would not know. Interestingly, this exercise appeared to be more difficult for actors/performers than anticipated.

Many had trouble thinking of something funny when put on the spot, a trend that continued around the circle. Normally rambunctious and playfully humorous cast members were lackluster and at a loss for words. In fact, the first actor/performer referred to being chased down by a cow over the summer, and most others followed suit with stories on the theme of something that happened over the summer rather than focusing on something personal, unknown, and funny. Four people gave no answers. Recognizing the ineffective outcome of this activity, one student noted that there was not enough time to prepare.

After a handful of students had gone, another chimed in that this was a very uncreative group; Ted rolled his eyes.

In Shawn’s story, he talked about having one and a half kids. Everyone laughed. “No really,” he responded, “one is on the way.” He continued, “I will tell you a funny story about my son. I had to take my son’s dinosaur away the other day . . . because he was biting people. He’s in purgatory right now.”

The second bout of laughter topped the first after which the musical rehearsal resumed with their work.

Once the group returned to singing, Shawn stated, “If you’re lost or I’m going too fast, let me know. Yell at me! I love to be yelled at! I really do!” Cast members smiled and laughed. Then the musical director said that he learned from a certain show that he wears a size fifty-six bra. Group members cracked up laughing. Later he asserted, “Maybe I’m a purest, but do it my way, and I’ll love you forever.” This was followed with the nonverbal sounds “Mmm,” and “Kiss, kiss.” As he simultaneously blew them kisses, the group smiled.

The musical director delivered additional comments with levity. When there suddenly seemed to be confusion among the rank and file, Shawn replied, “Which is it? I’m trying to keep this fun, folks.

Gosh!” He further noted, “I’m into detail [already]. Whoops! Sorry! I know these are bad habits that

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are hard to break. That’s why I’m into them now. I don’t want you to form bad habits.” Later he instructed everyone to: “Make Jim Carey faces. You should not be comfortable. You should be exhausted mouth-wise by the end of this show.” At yet a later hour, he responded, “I never said that, did

I? Don’t you know where I am? Can’t you read my mind? It’s a four coffee day, what can I say?”

Another time, he stated, “Yea, I think I’m done. It’s hard when I don’t go in order [of the songs in the show] to remember what I did. It’s hard for an insane professor.” Finally, after giving a blanket assignment to everyone to learn their lyrics, Shawn teased, “That’s why I do musicals. It’s my form of exercise. Wait till you see me conducting.”

As a matter of reciprocity, the musical director’s levity set the tone for others’ behavior. For example, Shawn noted that an actor named Richard was not needed for a particular song one evening.

Richard exclaimed, “Well!” then turned in a huff, stomped toward the door of the room, flipped his head as though tossing imaginary long hair over his shoulder, and quickly exited the dance hall. Shawn cried out to him, “[Richard], come back!” Richard immediately crossed back through the doorframe, proclaiming at last, “I’m not in this number!” Shawn’s come back was immediate, “Oh, well! Get out then!” Another actress named Bettie started walking stiffly into the room like Frankenstein. “This is how

I’ll walk as [my character]. What do you think? What do you think? Huh? Huh?” she joked. When

Shawn noted that he himself was a slave driver, someone asserted, “Yes, masser.” Groups of students followed suit, expressing delight in the amusing lyrics of the songs they rehearsed, and engaging in various forms of physical humor, such as walking like a foot soldier and/or making hip-hop movements complete with sound effects.

During the second musical rehearsal, given the musical director had opened the doors to humor usage the previous night, the actors/performers appeared to loosen up and engage more freely in physical and sexual humor. Again, this rehearsal was held in the dance classroom used for auditions, and everyone was seated in stack chairs situated in a semi-circular formation around the upright piano played by the musical director.

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One major humorous event of the evening was when Richard, in an urgent need to blow his nose, jumped out of his seat and, much to everyone’s surprise, bounded out of the room. He returned very shortly with yards of toilet paper wrapped around his neck a couple of times like a winter scarf with long ends hanging down the front of his chest. After plopping down into his chair and sonorously blowing his nose with one end of the scarf, a fellow actress, Bettie, and he proceeded literally to conduct themselves with their hands, arms, and feet throughout the remainder of the song they were rehearsing. Richard continued to tear away segments of his toilet paper scarf for use. After a short break, Richard’s runny nose once again forced him to leave the room. When he returned, he had an abundance of toilet paper draped around his neck again. In addition, he proceeded to launch into a lyrical “dance of the scarves” before finally sinking down in his chair. For a third time, Richard’s cold forced him to leave the room.

As he ran out of the room, no more tissue to rescue his runny nose, another actor named Nathan sarcastically quipped, “Where’s your tissue scarf now, huh?” The musical director, Shawn, followed with, “Did he snarf?” Folks stopped and asked what “snarf” meant to which the musical director replied,

“when you laugh and it comes out your nose.” “Yes,” many chimed in, “That’s what happened.” Richard returned shortly with a stack of brown paper towels three inches thick. This was another amusing sight.

Lillian explained to him that, while he was gone, they had accused him of snarfing. Richard required a definition of the word, then resumed his unofficial role as provider of tension-relieving humorist.

Additionally, even though the actors were serious about learning their music this night, they were prone to engaging in physical humor. For example, they watched themselves in the mirror in front of them in the room, conducted themselves with their hands and arms, and initiated and sustained foot tapping and dancing. They also made jerky, hip-hop moves, courted each other nonverbally via their eyes and facial expressions, smiles, and laughs. The high speed at which they had to sing some songs encouraged physicality as a means of enabling them to keep up with complex rhythms and lyrics. They tried out various intonations for certain words and phrases in their lyrics as well. “Hello versus hellooo versus helllooo,” for instance.

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Sexual gestures began to take root this evening as well. Flirtatious behaviors included seductive facial expressions and eye talk, winks, smiles, and click-click sounds in call and response format following successful male-female serenades. After Richard entered the room with his toilet paper scarf for the first time, an actress named Rue looked at him, placed her hands on both her breasts, and pushed them up with a firm and quick motion. Sustaining that pose for a moment, she asserted her femininity as a means of competing with Richard’s flamboyant and amusing antics by showing off her cleavage, although her breasts were discernible only underneath her oversized tee shirt. During another episode,

Lillian stopped to slowly carve out the shape of Peter’s face with her right hand and to pretend to stroke it in an endearing and pleasing manner. They smiled openly, as they moved to sit on the floor and to talk at a close, intimate range. In a short time, however, they were on the move again, alighting like butterflies somewhere else to talk to others.

Shawn was concerned this evening about teaching additional music, getting the rhythms, notes, and lyrics straight, and, again, having fun. At one point, he asserted, “This is not a train going down hill.

Not too fast!” The group tried the song again, but it was an unsuccessful attempt. Richard sounded off,

“Crash! Crack! Crunch!” Richard then looked to the artistic director, who was now in the room, for confirmation or approval of his cooperative and insightful behavior. At another point, Mattie said, “I sound or feel like a retard!” Shawn tried to reassure her by beginning to say, “Go butterfar . . . . ”; he then stopped himself, laughed, and asked, “Is that a word?” Mattie and he chuckled, then continued to rehearse her part. Later Mattie exclaimed, “I got it that time,” followed by a wide smile shot in the direction of both the artistic and musical directors for confirmation and/or approval of her victory. The director subtly nodded yes to her, his eyes widened with consent.

By the third and last day of musical rehearsals, the group moved into the main stage theatre. The black, grand piano was on the stage this evening as it had been for callbacks. Though everyone still employed humor, humor was relegated to a softer, more contained style. Instead a positive climate permeated the context, allowing everyone to concentrate on what they had learned thus far about their

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music. It was apparent that the abundance of humorous interchanges over the past several days had led to the positive affect of a very upbeat and supportive climate. Interactions were friendly, helpful, and complimentary, as cast members grew comfortable with each other and the staff. However, the repertoire of songs needing mastered was mounting, thus, based on a growing realization that there was a lot of work to be done, a somber and serious mood set in on top the positive one already established.

Part of this growing sobriety was due to the difficult and demanding nature of the music, not just the amount of music to be learned and polished. Thus, humor with each other continued, as when Rue and Shawn conversed about Rue’s role in the show. In response to her serious inquiries about her role in the musical, the director asked Rue, “Don’t you know that all the characters are the same . . . they just have different costumes? Haven’t you figured that out yet.” After a bit more conversation, the director added, “I’ll give you time to work on it.” His response built on the light, humorous, and positive tone of rehearsals already established. Episodes like these continued to build group harmony in a social communicative sense in the presence of what Shawn referred to as “a musical warhorse”—a show that presented a host of challenges with rhythm, pitch, and diction.

During this final rehearsal, the musical director, Shawn, asked, “Okay. Why does everybody sound sick?” Still suffering from a cold, Richard replied, “Because I am sick.” Both the artistic and musical directors encouraged the actors to stay healthy. The artistic director, Ted, noted, “Keep healthy.

You are the only one who knows what that means, what it takes to stay healthy . . .”. Shawn stated that he felt a sickness speech coming on as well. “If you are vocally sick, don’t talk to people,” he prescribed.

He encouraged folks to see him about various home remedies. He stated that the cast could choose to use his remedies or not, but he warned them jokingly not to swallow the olive if they chose to gargle with olive oil, like someone he knew did.

After explaining that his daughter started to walk over the weekend, which took the cake for him,

Shawn dove into the music again from the top of the show. Folks oohed and ahhed about his daughter, then rolled up their sleeves and got down to business. Shawn, again, admonished performers to slow

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down and to enunciate. All continued to laugh at and play with the lyrics. To help the actors/performers practice outside of rehearsals, Shawn announced that he would tape any music for them if they brought him a cassette tape.

As the music became part of the performers’ repertoire, it became a common occurrence to observe folks singing semi-audibly while they engaged in other activities, such as shuffling through book bags, breaking for refreshments or the restroom, or hanging out in general, waiting to be called on stage.

As some noted, songs became recurring songs-in-the-head. This became something of an amusement for the group from here on out.

Musical warm-up sessions.

Finally, each blocking rehearsal in the main stage theatre began with a musical warm up period.

Again, these warm up periods were not elaborate or varied, and only occurred at the onset of each nonmusical rehearsal. Generally actors/performers were asked by the artistic director, Ted, to “gather at the river, and sing.” This directive became everyone’s cue to sit on the edge of the stage around the musical director who was seated at the black, grand piano now housed on a hydraulic lift approximately half-way down in the auditorium pit. The actors/performers were very casual, swinging their legs over the edge of the stage, leaning back to rest on their hands, or sitting in lotus position.

The goal of these nightly opening sessions was to rehearse group and solo numbers. Group numbers were rehearsed first. Generally following group singing rehearsals, the musical director, Shawn, spent a brief amount of time rehearsing soloists who needed to work through whole songs or selections of songs. Overall, however, musical warm ups lasted not much more than thirty minutes. This was a casual time during which occasional latecomers simply joined in after putting down their bags and other belongings. Individuals could sit or stand however they chose without worrying about acting characterizations. Rather, they focused on warming up their voices in a healthy and ritualized manner.

But their directors also asked them to sing correctly, to focus on projecting their voices, and to articulate their lyrics.

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Blocking and Choreographic Rehearsals

Following the onset of blocking rehearsals, the cast and crew remained in the main stage theatre.

On the first evening of work on Act I, there was more preparation of the hallowed hall than had occurred previously. For example, the stage managers were busily swept the stage, and helped to lower the piano into the pit. In addition, when one member of the team, Andrew, entered with some keys, the lead stage manager, Peter, breathed a hearty sigh of relief. Having been looking for these frantically, he exclaimed,

“You saved the management team!” During this time also, a loud screeching noise sounded as the piano was being lowered on its hydraulic lift into the orchestra pit. Cast and staff members called out, “What’s wrong with that?” Others retorted amusingly, “It needs WD40, WD40.”

After commencing with the first blocking rehearsal in Act I, Ted reminded everyone to do this

“for fun and for profit.” Later he continued, “Make sense? You’re not going to win Oscars tonight. I’ll hurt you if you forget, but we’ll stop and fix it. Do the best you can. Tonight you are here to learn the blocking, not to act.” Actors were eager and ready to get started. The group was fresh, energized, and enthusiastic.

In contrast to Act I, at the start of Act II weeks later, the artistic director noted that he was worried about the following night or two due to the heavy amount of material to block. He would try not to keep them late, but reminded them that he had let them out early some already. Indeed, the subsequent evening, he proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your hats. It’s going to be a bumpy ride tonight.” He then jumped right into the second evening’s work on Act II, moving at a rather swift rate, but not so quickly that actors could not comprehend his directions, or did not have chances to ask questions and/or repeat units. However, actors gave halting performances, since they appeared tired and unsure of themselves.

Of some interest are the differences between the moods and emotional tones at the start of the blocking rehearsals for Acts I and II. Following musical warm ups, each blocking rehearsal included: (a) blocking and choreographic instructions for both Acts I and II; (b) run-throughs; (c) notes; and (d) breaks.

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These four phases were repeated three to four times nightly early on; later only the latter three phases continued. Blocking instructions for both Acts can be broken down as follows: stage positions, stage business, references to college life, emotional development, comic timing, faux pas or mistakes, chiding actors/performers into doing well, requests for blocking changes.

Acts I and II blocking instructions.

Naturally, blocking included directions in stage positions and movements, as when the artistic director, Ted, told Richard not to freeze his face front, and followed with, “You’ll glow in the dark.”

Later he corrected Luke to turn up rather than downstage while making a turn, and followed with, “Not your best side.” At another time, he instructed Luke to turn one quarter-turn stage left and to use his outside arm to move upstage toward the image of his beloved. “You’re singing to her nose. I can’t see your face,” Ted noted.

The artistic director gave additional stage position instructions. He warned an actress not to let someone else upstage her. “She’ll do it in a New York minute,” he chided. Instead, he instructed her to readjust her position to avoid letting the other actress take focus away from her, and showed her how to do this. Ted yet another time stated in front of the whole group, “Okay. Stop, ladies and gentlemen. You are doing something I don’t want you to do. You can’t just turn your heads, you have to turn your whole bodies to the characters on stage. Do it or you will die!” As another scene was running, Ted said to

Richard, “And don’t cover your face. I paid for that ugly mug.” Later he asked Luke to let us see his face, and the blood trickling down, so we did not miss “the Oedipus moment.”

Movement notes regarding how actors/performers were to move from one place to another throughout the show were pervasive as well. At the opening blocking session, Ted noted, “We will go fast, really fast. If you’re not use to this, this can be . . . . I would rather go fast and get the staging done, than to be at the end trying to finish blocking just before the show opens. I didn’t like that as an actor.”

He further instructed actors/performers to use their time wisely while focusing on their blocking rather than to sit by “like a bump on a pickle” when not on stage; “This is not a line reading. There is a lot of

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flushing out to do once you have the blocking. You will have to bring your own creative energy to the blocking.”

Following these couple of directives, movement instructions continued to be given section-by- section per scene by engaging in a close, one-on-one relationship with the actors. The following directions were typical: cross stage left to down stage right, then back up the stage left as you look for your glasses. Directions were given verbally, and usually followed up with a demonstration of the basic movements. Actors carried pencils with them and recorded their blocking movements, positions, and stage business in the margins of their librettos. Then they recalled and practiced their blocking from their notes.

There was a fair amount of specific stage business also, such as explaining to Luke and John how to rough house with one another in one of their confrontational scenes. Later he told John, “Ahhh! He’ll go on forever unless you put your hand on his shoulder and stop him. He’s like a mosquito. You have to stop him.” For a romantic scene, Ted instructed John and Cynthia to drool over each other more; specifically, he directed John to flex his muscles, blow on Cynthia, almost touch her—actions that the musical director, Shawn, proposed that Ted had found in Redbook Magazine. Another time, he wanted

Richard to remain posed on the ground longer – perhaps three seconds longer. After giving this note, Ted added, “That is the word from the Russian Consulate.” Folks responded with “Whoah!”

During Act II, there were additional examples of stage business. For example, Ted asked actors/performers to add an appropriate sound to go with their movements in one of the choreographed group numbers. “Go [Buckeyes],” for example would not be appropriate, he warned. Certain actors/performers were concerned at another time about how to get a child off stage. The director suggested, “The lateral pass effect does not work.” They experimented with it until this bit of blocking and business became fluid. At another time, Ted asked Rue to work on a scene by saying, “Either start out physically, and grow more still, or start out still, and grow more physical. I want you to pick. I know what I would pick.” Finally, after a dress rehearsal, the director added a new piece of stage business

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when he asked John to take Cynthia’s hat off—“Can you take her hat off, like in some bad movie? Take her Debra Winger off.” One person clapped in response to this suggestion.

During instructions, there were some references to college life, such as when, in commenting on one’s difficulty in remembering, the musical director, Shawn, confessed, “It’s hard for an insane professor.” Another time, Ted instructed someone to do something that he admitted he had copied from the Broadway production. Shawn chimed in, “At least part of the curriculum [at this University] is legitimate.” The director answered, “I do the best I can. Give me a break.” In another instance, the part- time assistant director noted humorously that Ted wanted to see someone’s body parts in a scene. The director replied, “Private parts? Never mind! That’s how professors lose their jobs.” They abruptly moved on. Later the artistic director instructed Rue to grow angrier and angrier during the end of a unit.

“It’s kind of like a college professor,” he explained matter-of-factly.

The latter comment also is illustrative of instructions about emotional tone and/or development.

Such also instructions were provided to actors/performers, as noted below. During Act I, Ted instructed two women acting together in a scene to behave like “vicious, mean eighth graders.” Another time he asked Luke to savor the emotional moments in a song he was rehearsing. “Enjoy the taste of these words,” Ted directed, adding that Luke should feel strongly about these words, so much so that he could turn and read a phonebook with as much passion. In this same block of time, the director urged all actors/performers to pull more energy from the wings. He noted that he was not getting enough emotional energy. “I see you,” he noted, “and if you are dull,” he made various disgusting faces,

“caucaw, poo-poo, blah!” Still later, he added, “It’s like ‘Give me liberty, or give me death.’ Passionate, energized, but earnest. You must mean it, or it won’t work.”

During Act II scene work, the artistic director emphasized certain emotional work as well. For example, he asked Maria to cry more fully, “Would you cry, cry your way in, cry me a river?” Later, he suggested to Rue that she could use humor in a beat (or unit) within a certain scene to make her cohorts madder and madder. “You can make this hurt a lot more,” he noted, “Find the humor in it.” As he

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walked off stage, he sang, “Reach out and touch . . . ,” then inquired with Rue, “Is it making any sense to you?” She confirmed that it did. He, again, asked Cynthia to be more seductive with John when he entered a certain scene. Again, both were directed to use “more kiss and goo”; the director assured them that he read about that kind of thing in a book. Another time, in referring to this same scene, the director asked John to make a noise when Cynthia touched him to express his feelings, just as she did when he touched her; he claimed, again, “That was in a book I read.” Ted noted that John also needed to moan when Cynthia touched his chest—“Equal opportunity here,” he commented—and that Cynthia should leave her handkerchief down stage for John to pick up. Ted further instructed John and Luke not to act so glibly in a certain scene now, but to demonstrate more physical reactions to their emotions and greater

[politeness]. Later, the director instructed John to have stronger emotion when he walked away from

Cynthia. The director asserted, “It says, ‘I’m over you, baby!’”

The artistic director further used instructional sessions to focus on comic timing and/or pacing and tempo. Ted noted to Luke, John, and Cynthia that the comic timing in one of their Act I musical numbers was like a bad opera. “I know. I’ve directed a couple of ‘em,” he announced. He went on to explain that the piece had to be absolutely melodramatic, and meanings had to be clarified by the two actors via vocal intonations and comic timing. Additionally, the director later commented that the show overall was not the right tempo. He felt that there needed to be more urgency about it. “Right now it is so relaxed. It’s Johnny Mathis, which is a whole other play. Ease on down the road. [You are using a] slow tempo, but [this is] not a song to a sweetheart. Be more urgent! This is important to tell. . . . It is crucial!” Again, during a dress rehearsal, Ted noted, “There are pauses from hell in this. Don’t slow the dialogue down. Don’t add pauses that don’t mean anything.”

During Act II, Ted noted that movement helped comic timing, especially during songs. During

Act II notes one evening, for example, Ted asked John to pause before a certain line, and he asked Luke to stand on his toes with his hand on John’s shoulder during his punch line in order to foster audience laughter. Another time, Ted noted, “You all are off rhythm on [a certain line in a song]. There are two

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rhythms going now, so it sounds like,” and he imitated a party line with two conversations going at once.

Folks laughed, and Ralph said, “Are you speaking in tongues?” Another time, Ted asked John to avoid the “Harold Pinter pause” in the middle of his line, “I will always love you.”

Sometimes faux pas or mistakes in timing or otherwise surfaced. For instance, one actress, with a large sized prop in hand, briskly crossed from stage left to stage right one evening. Before she reached the other side, she began to question her whereabouts within the vast emptiness of a stage that, by her own growing realization, was to be active with people. Those of us sitting in the audience successfully read her lips as she turned to us and said, “This is not the right scene.” We laughed. While giggling embarrassingly, she threw an amused, yet perplexed face our way, and exited the stage promptly with small, hurried steps. Another night, the artistic director asked, “Is there anything that confuses you?”

While mocking performers, Shawn replied, “What words come where?” Later, the director asked again for questions: “Is there anything anyone is terribly horrified about?” Various questions followed which, once answered clearly, helped to reduce blocking mistakes and/or confusion. Finally, Ted urged Maria and Luke to express more affection or “goo-goo” toward one another, but he mistakenly said “go-go” instead. Everyone laughed robustly.

During Act II, mistakes naturally ensued as well. One time, Richard ran on stage, and by analogy, committed a faux pas by referring to his cohort on stage as “[a loser]”; then he abruptly corrected himself, “I mean [lawyer].” Both laughed. Yet another evening, Cynthia forgot her line right after her stage kiss with John. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed, as she reached for her libretto; folks laughed, as

Ralph asked, “Was it good?”

Interestingly, as part of his instructional method, the artistic director also chided actors/performers into doing their best during blocking rehearsals. For instance, he often said something on the order of “Try it again, and if you don’t get it, transfer to [Random University]! That’s all. Or he would say “Let’s do the whole thing again, and see if we can get it right . . . or I’ll bite your nose.

Alright?” Another time he stated, “When you block a lot of community theatre, which none of you will

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ever do, you get these people who act like they’re in a Methodist Choir.” Folks laughed, as he continued to imitate a stiff choir pose and a singing voice he likened to Aunt Bea’s voice on The Andy Griffith

Show. He warned people to avoid embarrassing themselves by singing like this. Further, in noting that there was a lot of referencing to the audience, he asserted, “It’s mugging. It’s tacky. It’s bad. It’s very amateurish to put it mildly, and if I had a gun I would have shot you.”

Likewise, in Act II, the artistic and musical directors continued chiding actors/performers into doing their best. Coming off the stage from blocking one evening, for instance, the artistic director broke into song, “I light up my life . . . .” He continued by asserting the need to work hard on polishing this show: “Keep reading. It’s not even light out yet.” In addition, the musical director noted that a certain song was the hardest one in the show. “I’ll be praying here each night,” he stated, and then genuflected for emphasis. One choreographed number was not running smoothly in Ted’s estimation, thus he proclaimed, “Let’s walk it, and talk it, and crawl on your belly like a reptile.” He then added at the end of the evening, “Never sing it sloppy. Sing it perfectly, even if you mark it.”

The artistic director appeared to be impatient with actors’/performers’ requests for blocking changes. One evening, he commented to Luke, “You changed my blocking. I kind of like it, but you changed it!” He further cried to me, “Why do I always have to remember [actors/performers] blocking, and they don’t?” Another night, Cynthia asked about entering from the other side of the stage than directed. The director told her to go ahead and try it. “And I’ll tell you I hate it,” he warned; “Okay, I’ll try it,” she retorted. Eventually, he did concede to let the actress enter from the other side of the stage.

On yet another occasion, Richard asked about changing something in a scene with Nathan. The artistic director teased, “Okay. Try it. I will criticize you next time, don’t worry.”

On the other hand, when the part-time assistant stage manager was assisting one evening, he made a suggestion that Ted liked and adopted. The idea was that, in order to feel disgusted, the actors were supposed to pretend that a wind blowing their way reeked of halitosis. Since the cast too approved

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of this hypothetical technique, the director said, “So let’s try it with halitosis. Nice idea. . . . Let’s try it.”

This bit of business stuck with the show.

Acts I and II choreographic instructions.

Choreography was introduced to the cast for both Acts I and II after the start of the second week of rehearsals. The element of dance created new group dynamics, both physically and psychologically.

The actors/performers and the artistic director, Ted, who also served as the show’s choreographer, became energized, spontaneous, and creative. Dancing unleashed sexual impulses, thus actors/performers and others began to engage in seductive postures and movements. They also began to develop vocalizations, such as ah-has, uh-huhs, oh-ohs, and laughter, to coincide with their movements. In effect, dancers seemed air borne.

During the choreographic instructions one evening, several interesting events transpired. For example, Ted decided to call one of the dance numbers in the show “the eighth grade half-time show.”

Cast members ignored him, cackling and frolicking around as they had been doing. Trying to get their attention, he continued, “You have to do it. You have to do it. You have to do it. No listen. You have to

. . .”. Eventually they simmered down, and he was able to show them what he wanted them to do.

Afterwards, “the eighth grade half-time show” made a lot more sense; performers tried it, and from the sounds of the ah-hahs and the looks on their faces, many had figured out what he meant. They then beamed with pride in their ability to enact a youthful and playful dance segment within the show.

Later the same evening during choreographic instructions, Ted was trying to help the group create final poses using a variety of levels and positions. “Now, listen,” he asserted, “Who is in group one?”

Actors answered his question. He then proceeded to show them what to do while allowing them to create their own statuesque poses. The same was done for groups two and three. Moving from group to group,

Ted placed performers at all different levels within these three ending tableaux. When he got to Richard,

Richard took the opportunity to ham it up. Actors laughed. Later, a light bulb went off for John, and he vocalized his recognition of a triangular formation the director had created in his tableaux, adding, “Darn

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it! This is going to be a damn good show.” John, now energized, turned his adrenaline into a series of back kicks, forward hip thrusts, and a fig leaf pose. Bettie pointed out to Cynthia that her ending pose was a bit suggestive—“Alright, you’re giving birth now”—to which Cynthia responded by making a scared, straight face, and quickly pulled her legs closer together. Those overhearing as well as Bettie and

Cynthia laughed with glee.

Later still, Ted noted that Peter had pointed out that a certain arm movement in a dance number looked like Ninja movies. “I thought it was clever, but I think I will change it,” the director said; some moaned, “Ahhh.” Instead of their forearms touching, the director changed it to a softer, gentler hand and arm movement with the arms slightly intertwined. After careful observation, Ted said that this was better than a “Hiya! Hiya!” movie.

The artistic and musical directors made various notes regarding the choreography throughout the rehearsal process as well. Examples of these that are humorous in nature are noted below. First, after the first day of choreography, Shawn pointed out that folks were doing their independent movements simultaneously and running into each other. Ted responded, “Sure they move at the same time. I know.

They’ll all be crashing into each other”; Shawn quipped, “Call an ambulance,” to which the director replied to the group, “I don’t want you to hurt each other, but I need you to move at the same time.

Create traffic patterns. Cover my stage. Dress the stage. Dress the stage.” Another significant note that

Ted issued was that actors/performers necessarily had to dance and sing in unison. Not only must they dance in character, but he wanted to hear every word they sang as well. “This dance is not terribly difficult, but that doesn’t mean I want you to mess it up. So back on stage,” he said as he flapped his shirt open again, exposing his stomach momentarily.

During Act II, with little success in one of the dance numbers, Ted said, “Relax. Did we learn what we forgot? Did we learn what we forgot?” Juxtaposing his verbs symbolized the confusion actors demonstrated about steps in this routine. He reviewed how many steps of a certain kind were in the

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number. “Two, I think, unless I have gone crazy,” he stated. “Okay. I think we need to run that again, don’t you?” he concluded.

After choreographic work on Act I one evening, Ted noted, “All right. Relax a minute. That was actually better. If any of the dance steps are eluding you, as dance often does, get with someone who knows it, and have them run it with you. Just make sure you learn it. All actions are motivated by actors.” He continued to note that there was a tendency to speed up entrances and exits, but the real energy was in the wings, compelling folks on and off stage. He reminded everyone, “It’s sort of a musical theatre think, if you think about it.”

Later, after a review of Act I, the director wryly asserted, “All of you love the dance. I can tell.”

He noted that he wanted them to dance the dance accurately, but always in character. If they had trouble with it, he wanted them to work with someone. Mitchell noted that perhaps the dance was too fast, since he “racked his balls against the wall” during one run of the number. The director replied, “That wall has been damaged twice during its tenure here. Please be careful! Perhaps some professional lingerie is in order.”

On yet another occasion, when Ralph was caught fooling around at the end of a number, the director added, “Shaking your boodie to the audience at the end is probably not exactly what we want.”

Another evening, Richard also shook his boodie to the audience in the same way, but added a comment for the whole group, which earned him some laughs, and no admonitions. Yet another evening, Richard was off working on a dance number in Act II when he became confused, so he went to Ted for help.

“Bear with me a minute,” Richard said. “I’m with you, babe. Go!” replied the director. After hearing

Richard out, Ted explained what he meant originally. He noted that the dancers’ weight needed to shift, or they would fall down. They ran the number a few more times, after which Richard seemed satisfied.

During another evening, the director asked Rue to get more and more physical during a certain song and dance number—“Modern Dance III improv here,” he instructed.

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Review Run-Through Rehearsals

Run-throughs designed to review the blocking, singing, and choreography in Acts I and II were critically important since they provided actors/performers with opportunities to learn their parts organically and to experiment with characterizations, positions, movements, stage business, comic timing, pacing and tempo, and so on. There were eight review run-throughs all toll—four for Act I, three for Act

II, which was a shorter Act, and one devoted to pieces from either Act. These review run-throughs allowed each director time to modify blocking or musical instructions as performers showcased what they had learned. As Ted noted, actors probably only changed ten percent from the way they were blocked originally, but the intention of the review run-throughs was to pinpoint blocking difficulties while interacting in character on stage.

Ted stated, “You don’t tell an actor how to say a line. You don’t tell an actor exactly how you do it like he is a big puppet. You don’t get any of his artistry or his creativity if you tell him to do it exactly the way I do it . . . . That is a bad directing technique.” Rather the goal was to allow them to work within a skeletal framework of blocking within which they were free to experiment—to add to, subtract from, and/or change directions—in order to make the blocking and staging their own. Admittedly, mature actors/performers were more likely to exercise this kind of freedom. However, the review run-throughs served the function of helping to encourage all actors/performers toward this kind of professional maturation.

Once a scene, one of the Acts, or the production as a whole was ready to be run, there generally was no stopping and starting to polish certain units or moments in the show. Run-throughs progressed without interruptions. Many actors/performers would have liked to have had more time for detailed work on their scenes. The musical director similarly would have liked added rehearsal time for music.

However, whether driven by time constraints, directorial preferences, or theatre trends, the main structure of rehearsals remained that of running the show from the top to a predetermined point of finality, either at the end of a scene or Act. After the scene, Act, or entire show was completed, notes were given.

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Shawn observed that actors/performers got to the point where they could not perform some of their songs without the movements blocked or choreographed for them. Unfortunately, he also felt that the movements sometimes changed his vocal work and messed it up. “They had gotten loose with the movement, and things started happening in different timing, and so the associations just changed, and they just changed the music to fit their movement.” Thus, rehearsals formed habits, but sometimes the habits they formed were not the ones desired.

Naturally, as always, there initially were mistakes in performers’ scene work, so the directors used side coaching to adjust such infractions. This meant that the directors talked and sometimes physically demonstrated what the actors were supposed to be doing. This was beneficial because it provided immediate feedback and also saved time for everyone. Moreover, it is a recognized directing technique. Over time and especially close to performances, the actors managed to polish their acting, singing, blocking, and choreography rather well.

Moreover, as actors/performers launched into review rehearsals for Acts I and II, the artistic director, Ted, informed them that their work now would make or break them. At the same time, he left the hoops they were to pass through ablaze in order that they could independently discover them and develop quality performance routines.

In focusing on one of John’s and Luke’s songs, the artistic director prepared to explain the emotional tone and blocking for the song by pulling his white short-sleeved shirt out of his belt, revealing his stomach. He was prone to do this after becoming immersed in his work. He then explained how he wanted one of them to stop in his action like “Oh, shit! I got caught.” John and Luke then performed their song, as the director concurrently shifted their weight, moved them, and showed them how to move via his side coaching.

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warm-up rehearsal because they were talking and laughing. Ted called out, “Gentlemen, I need all your power . . . ! I’m hearing nice, solid sounds, but the diction is not there.” Later, he commented that a musical number they had run was sloppy: “It’s very sloppy. Some of you are marking. Sloppy!” A while later still, Ted noted that he suspected some still did not know the words to this ensemble number.

Therefore, he asked them to pick a partner, and every time they saw one another, they were to rehearse the lyrics to this song three times. He continued, “If I suspect that you are not learning the words, I will pull you out in pairs, and have you sing alone. So I will know if you know the words. This is as mean as

I get.” This trend continued, as Ted noted, “This is not a music rehearsal. It’s both a music and blocking

[rehearsal]. You’ve lost your acting,” and “When you’re working with a conductor in a pit, don’t look at him. Look across him, and you can see him out the corner of your eye.” In addition, Ted told the group that he needed an “energy and acting commitment, please!” After only a couple of hours into rehearsal, the artistic director dismissed the cast and crew for what he surmised was a much needed break for all.

It is noteworthy too that, as the workload accumulated, some faces began to show subtle signs of wear and tear through the deepening of various facial crevices, and a darkening, especially around the eyes and mouth. Ample sleep and nutrition reportedly were becoming harder to maintain while simultaneously juggling mounting production pressures, college homework and/or other responsibilities, work schedules, and various personal issues.

On the first night of Act II blocking, Ted claimed, “They are tired. They’ve been going since 8 a.m.” Rehearsals ran from 7:00 p.m. until 11:00 p.m. nearly every night. After that cast and staff went home to do homework and/or went out to unwind. For some, fourteen to eighteen hour days sometimes were required to accomplish everything. Naturally, when folks fell into such a pattern, they suffered the signs of stress from having overworked themselves. However, as participants grew comfortable with their run-throughs, humor blossomed once again as a means of lightening everyone’s burdens, though it never really had ceased.

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Actors’/performers’ hard work was coupled with escalating needs to socialize with their peers.

One Friday night prior to run-throughs of Acts I and II, actors seemed tired and anxious to spend time together outside of rehearsals. This particular evening—one of only two observed—Ted started and stopped scenes to polish problem areas. Actors focused on the details of their roles, as directed, and as their waning energy levels allowed. Humor usage was mild and low keyed this evening. Some were let go early, and some stayed until 10:45 p.m.

Notes

Notes given to the actors/performers by the directors, like instructions, were given clearly, humorously, and swiftly. However, notes were not given in a formal sense until the seventh rehearsal, which was the first review rehearsal. This evening, the cast members focused on the first three scenes in

Act I. The artistic director, Ted, had an assistant director take notes for him on a legal pad, but only occasionally. More often he took his own notes, since the assistant director was part-time. The artistic director led the note reporting sessions, and included notes about acting as well as singing and dancing.

His notes were organized chronologically from the top of a scene or Act to the end.

The musical director, Shawn, was given a brief amount of time nightly after the artistic director to present notes as well. The musical director was given less time, however, than the artistic director presumably because the artistic director routinely gave singing notes. Since the musical director played the piano for rehearsals and had no assistant to help him take notes, he had less opportunity to write down notes. He, therefore, had to rely on his memory as well as whatever he could mark down on his legal pad while playing the music for the entire show. One night Shawn said, “That’s it. I’m out of paper.” He then threw his legal pad of paper on the floor, as though saying his memory was full so no more notes for anyone tonight.

Shawn would have liked assistance with note taking while he was playing the piano. Shawn played all the musical numbers for the performers each night up until several days prior to opening. At that time, a small orchestra was introduced into the production process. He was a bit irritated that the

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artistic director did not sense his need for someone to help him record his notes. He stated, “Yeah.

Everybody has picked up their stuff and is half-way out the door before he [Ted] says okay, [Shawn], do you have any notes?” This was one part of his dilemma. The other part was, as he said, “I’m playing and how can I have time to write a note. Why isn’t there an assistant stage manager next to me that I can talk to while I’m working?” Shawn continued, “I think having three hours of notes after rehearsal is kind of productive. What I don’t understand is that in place of notes, why didn’t we stop and discuss at the time.

I think we had plenty of opportunity for continuity at the end of the run.”

Given Shawn’s lack of time for notes, he gave only broad-based notes during rehearsals, saving individual directives for before, at the beginning of, after, and/or outside of rehearsals. He admittedly used daytime hours to talk and work with singers in his studio office. Even though Shawn had to give his notes piece meal, he still used a clear, humorous, and brief style, as Ted did. He also continued to remain concerned about the performers’ health and well being. At the completion of the first review rehearsal, he encouraged actors to take care of their voices by drinking warm water to keep wet in the throat; he further placed his confidence in their knowledge of what they needed to work on, and told them that he loved them.

Even the stage manager, Peter, was given a little bit of time at the end of note sessions and/or at the end of each evening to give notes. His notes were characteristically brief, to the point, and sometimes humorous. Some evenings the stage manager had no notes, though a time slot was always there for him.

Notes were followed by a ten-minute break or dismissal.

Actors/performers typically said “Thank you” after receiving a note. Perhaps they said, “Yes, thank you,” or “Right, thank you.” This was a chance for the actors to acknowledge that they heard and understood the directors’ notes. This was a noticeable bit of etiquette performed consistently by all but perhaps a few freshmen, and even the freshmen caught on, or were directly told to respond in this manner if they did not.

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Ted assumed that older actors (juniors and seniors) appreciated and were able to absorb and act upon notes better than the younger actors (freshmen and sophomores). He stated:

First of all, all actors had a lot of trouble with notes. They have all been local stars and high

school stars, and they are not quite used to getting notes and criticism. The young actors had

much more trouble incorporating that than the older actors do. It also has something to do with

the individual personalities as well. It varies individually. I tried to keep my notes as fast and as

updated and positive and funny as I could to keep them entertained while you are doing what is

not particularly an interesting job. Hopefully by the time they are seniors, they will want more

notes, and they will want more feedback.

Ted further explained that some actors did not have the prerequisite vocabulary to digest notes well. He cited John, a freshman, as an example of an actor that had no acting background to enable him to work through notes well. He said, “He doesn’t have the theatre language and the acting skills to take notes and incorporate them very well. He got better as it [went along], but he never quite got the crispness and the speed and the clarity that I wanted.” As another example, Ted cited Richard, Bettie,

Mattie, and some others who he wanted to be “dumber.” He stated, “I don’t want them all to be dumb all the time. Dumbness is the note I gave them rather than I need a lack of self-awareness because I don’t think they would understand what that meant. That is not a very good note to give to an actor.”

Like Shawn, Ted further worked with actors outside of rehearsals as well. He stated, “They also got some help from me because they would come back the next day in my office and say, can you elaborate a little bit more about this note?”; he added, “Usually that is the younger actors that don’t want to hear public criticism.” Ted did not believe in telling actors exactly how to execute an action. He did not believe in forcing them, but he did believe in changing anything that was wrong. This was because, as he noted:

There is a point in time when they know more about the characters than I do because they are

becoming those characters. When I say, you need to be down [stage] right, they might not be as

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far down right as I originally blocked it because there is a truth in what they are doing. What they

are doing is actually better.

In addition, performers typically remained respectful and cooperative toward the directors and stage managers during notes. According to Richard, there was a tacit understanding that actors were working to fulfill a director’s vision, especially since actors, being on stage, were handicapped from seeing a production from the audience’s perspective. They, therefore, could not gain a sense of the relationship between the parts and the whole like Ted could. Withholding judgment is prudent, given, as

Richard stated, it is impossible to judge a work of art until it is completed. As he illustrated, even though a television painter puts a red line down the middle of a beautiful painting, he is able to work the red line into the picture in order to turn it back into a beautiful painting. Some may doubt the artist, question why he would add a red line, and consider the picture ruined, but his artistic hands, any object can be transformed into a work of art through a wide range of forms and styles.

Below are additional examples illustrative of a positive and cooperative attitude during notes.

First, one evening an actor/performer was acting as though he could not do an action on stage that he had been instructed to do. The director looked at him blankly, after which he quickly adjusted his attitude, then affirmed, “I can do it. Yes, I can. I’m sorry.” Folks laughed. The artistic director, himself, noted that he had cast a lot of first time leads, two out of four of whom were freshmen. He liked the fact that he was helping young actors to play a lead, and added, “They are working hard to be approved of. Good attitudes are part of this.” After I confirmed observation of good attitudes, Ted joked about how their attitudes rather than their aptitudes got them cast, and how we needed a “Scholastic Attitude Test” for students plus directors and other college professors. We laughed.

Sometimes actors/performers would stop the artistic director to ask their own questions and/or, to a lesser degree, to explain themselves in response to one or more notes. If the performer addressed did not understand the director’s note(s), but someone else did, the director would ask the other

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actor/performer to explain it to them, and move on. Much of the driving force during notes was to complete them swiftly and efficiently.

After notes, some actors noticeably worked on correcting problem areas. During Act II, for example, John was told to walk like a military man rather than a basketball player. After notes, he complained, “Now I have to learn to walk again.” As he thought about this, he started to walk differently.

Feeling awkward, however, he chimed back to various onlookers, “I guess I just can’t walk. I played sports, hey? I don’t know.” Folks laughed.

Ted made numerous comments about learning lines. The first night of work on Act I, Ted asserted that the cast needed to get off book as much and as quickly as possible. He thought they should be able to get off book for the first scene right away. However, he admitted that once other scenes were added in, keeping their lines in tact would be another matter. Cast members already were rehearsing their lines from their green librettos while waiting off stage. At the end of the first review night for Act I, Ted stated, “Those of you carrying books still, I know it frustrates you. Get rid of them as soon as you can.”

After Act II work commenced, actors were encouraged to work off book.

Various examples are provided below from Act II that shed some light on the intricacies of the experience of learning to work off book. For example, one evening Richard demonstrated a need to seek approval by rattling off a steady stream of words to Ted without looking at his book, although the libretto remained by his side. Another time, the artistic director hinted, “Great! You sort of remembered it [the song and choreographed steps]. But you’ll have to be off book for me to give you the particular hands and arms I have for it.” That same evening, he emphasized that still being on book was like belonging to

“[this University’s] Reader’s Theatre Organization.” At the end of another evening, he made two pleas to learn lines. First, he noted that Flo was blinded and wearing dark, round sunglasses while reading her lines. “Fascinating!” he exclaimed. Richard and Lillian stated, “It was Braille,” to which the director responded with the pun, “I didn’t see that.” Second, he exclaimed that it bothered him to see people reading what they had to learn to do on their own. “Please do it! It will help a lot to get off book.

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Okay?” At the start of another rehearsal, he noted, “You’re still . . . ,” then he bent his head down, lifted his hands in front of his face, and opened both hands like a book. “If you have time tonight, learn your lines.”

Cynthia confessed to Ted one evening that she did not have her lines learned. The drop-dead date was not yet at hand, Ted noted, to which she replied, “I know, but I’m not sure of my blocking without the book. I don’t want you to be mad at me.” The director responded, “Would I get mad at anyone?”

The implication was that Ted could get mad, but he appreciated Cynthia’s honesty, and wanted her to learn her lines in a relaxed mode.

Like the artistic director, the musical director, Shawn, sometimes referred to as “Mr. Maestro

Man,” also focused heavily on enunciation and projection of the voice. At the end of an Act II rehearsal, he promised that he would be very nice in a few days, but not before, and in the meantime, they were to use good articulation at all times. Later, Ted asserted to Richard that regarding a certain line or set of lines, “Didn’t understand that, Mr. Brando.” Folks laughed. Another time, he asked John not to speak so softly when making passes at Cynthia. “You’re using the Saturday night back seat voice. On stage we need to hear you,” he instructed for greater vocal projection. Later, the director noted that there were a lot of alliterative words in the show that needed to be delivered very fast, must be very clear, or would be very hard for the audience to understand.

Breaks

During break times—both formal and informal—actors, directors, and stage managers engaged in various activities. Formal breaks were those called by the artistic director and/or stage manager. They lasted ten minutes. Informal breaks refer to times when actors or other staff members were not working, but rehearsal still was in session. Although they were required to remain close by or to let the stage managers know where they were at all times, when they were not working, they were at liberty to relax as they did on formal breaks. They would sit or lie down in the house or on the stage and rest, read, do

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homework, talk with others, and generally relax. They also might practice lines, blocking, choreography, and/or singing.

Examples of these types of behaviors during formal and informal break times follow. Maria teased John during initial Act I blocking rehearsals, “You need to stop studying, and talk to people. See!

This is your problem! You’re always working with your nose in a book.” He responded saying, “I’m just studying, minding my own business.” Maria’s pleas, however, eventually helped John, a freshman and newcomer to this theatre, to loosen up and socialize more. Another evening right before the first review run-through, Ralph sat down in the center of the house, and offered to read lines with anyone; he just had shouted through all his lines, he said, and was willing to help others.

Another evening, Mattie worked through some homework in a music workbook while listening to a cassette tape. Nearby, Maria painted her fingernails in pearl white. Eventually, Mattie stopped working on her music homework, and braided Maria’s hair as they talked. Yet another time, Shawn used break time to help Rue understand the difference between a healthy and an unhealthy belt voice. “One is held within and one is more outwardly projected as though your voice and breath are expanding to the sides,” he instructed. Shawn demonstrated what he meant, and had Rue imitate him, as he pushed against her stomach in an effort to help her execute her breathing and sound correctly.

After engaging in choreography during Act I, Ted and Richard headed outside to smoke. On the way, Ted said to Richard, “Okay, give me a break. You’re supposed to tell me that that was good or something”; Richard replied, “That was great!” During a subsequent break that same evening, Cynthia inquired with Richard whether he was feeling all right or not. “I’m fine. Uh-ha. I’m just fine,” Richard answered, though he made a tired face. Cynthia gave him a questioning look to which he replied, “No, really,” and added that he had not gotten enough sleep the previous night; Cynthia responded, “Oh, a late night last night?”. Gertrude informed me that her opinion was that in the theatre, if you do not smoke, you will because most theatre folks appeared to her to smoke. I observed Gertrude as well other smokers—Richard, Ted, and Ralph—to smoke Marlboro Lights.

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Approximately a handful of participants smoked. Given the smoke-free status of the building, they had to smoke outdoors. Often Ted would join them. Not only was Ted seen coming from and/or going to smoke a cigarette, so was Richard. During the first review run-through, Richard finished his solo song, exited the stage hurriedly, grabbed a water bottle, quickly got out of a costume jacket and scarf, grabbed a cigarette, and literally ran up through the house to go outside for a smoke. A few seconds later,

Ralph took one of Richard’s cigarettes and followed suit. At the start of Act II blocking, Gertrude asked

Richard if he wanted to go outside to smoke with her, to which he replied, “Wanna go, flow . . ., jam.

Here I am, baby.” No drinking was allowed on campus either, which Ted toyed with by noting that Blake was to drink no vodka during break because he would be up for blocking right afterwards. The joke related to the drunken nature of Blake’s character within the production.

Many participants continued to engage in interactions with others, together joking, teasing, and/or telling upbeat stories to keep the humor ball bouncing. One evening, Bettie, for example, was self- disclosing how she planned to visit a friend the next weekend down south. This friend was a known

Broadway actor/performer then performing on Broadway. Richard found it incredulous that Bettie would have a relationship with such a well-known theatre person, but Bettie insisted that she was telling the truth. In fact, she recounted how she used to baby sit for this person. Richard continued to ham up his disbelief in her story a while longer before conceding that perhaps she was not trying to pull his leg.

Another time, Mitchell noted that Rue, his girlfriend, had locked her keys in her car that evening with the motor running. She was waiting in the parking lot for someone to unlock her car as rehearsal continued. Mitchell reminisced about having done the same thing on vacation once. Shawn chimed in that he had done this too, but had unlocked the automatic lock on his car with a large tomato stake. When he unlocked his car, he contended that he was so happy, he cried out “It worked! It worked! However, a week later, when he took his car through the car wash, it got soaked inside. They all laughed. “It broke the seal,” he confessed.

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At another break, Peter did a tour de force set of turns on stage, circling his arms overhead, while wearing a towel wrapped like a turban around his head. With various onlookers, he then mimed mixing something with his hands and arms. This series of movements ended in a deep bow backwards as Peter mimed pouring the concoction down his throat.

At yet another break time, Lillian and Luke met in the middle of the down stage area. Luke swung her around, hugged her, and held her hands. They laughed. Lillian mouthed, “Love you,” then, as quickly as they came together, they parted. Others tended to gather around the piano informally, talk, joke, and play with the musical director and each other during breaks. Unfortunately, much of this banter was difficult to hear and/or interpret.

Break times also were used to focus on performers’ work. It became apparent that humor was used by actors as a means of generating new and fresh ideas for their characters during their work on Act

I. In order to remain focused on role-oriented behaviors, they also read and re-read their scripts while looking for creative insights. Further, they talked to people, both within and outside of the production, for inspiration and advice. Moreover, they located pockets of space either within the auditorium, the hallway, or the stage to experiment with different mannerisms and vocal dynamics. All this activity, of course, was in addition to insights about their roles gleaned from directors’ instructions, run-throughs, and notes.

During the second half of Act I rehearsals, the texture of social interactions changed. The cast, though focused and motivated to do well, remained highly interactive with others, but was propelled by their emotions and imaginings to concentrate on the sometimes solitary and small group work required for developing their roles. Thus, their use of humor occurred off stage typically as the serious work of the production took focus on stage.

Stagger-Through Rehearsals

As the group entered into the next phase of rehearsals, stagger-through rehearsals, final touches were being added to the sets, props, properties, costumes, and special effects. There were five stagger-

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through rehearsals prior to technical and/or dress rehearsals. During this time, final set painting and décor items were completed. Surrogate props, such the infamous “towel baby,” were discarded and real props, a baby doll in a blanket, were substituted. Plastic chairs were replaced by real chairs or stools, or in one case, by an animal.

Actors/performers were being supplied with more and more complete renditions of their costumes and accessories. As the designer and wardrobe crew secured them from rental agencies or finished building them in their costume shop, everyone donned and worked in them, as they had been doing to some degree since the beginning. Special personnel trained actors in how to work safely with weapons and around pyrotechnics and other special effects.

Thus, stagger-through rehearsals represented more complete versions of the production than review rehearsals. Likewise too, they continued to focus and build on actors’/performers’ singing, acting, and dancing prowess. Stagger-through rehearsals raised the stakes all the way around to include those technical elements most closely affecting actors/performers. This also helped them achieve the most polished performances possible. Stage managers became more fully engaged in back stage work, as their crew would join them soon. In fact, technical staff and members of the crew were invited to attend the last two out of five stagger-through rehearsals to learn the show and prepare for their technical roles behind the scenes. Once technical and/or dress rehearsals began, the orchestra, lighting and sound cues, and make-up would be added.

During this phase of the overall rehearsal process, actors/performers grew more and more serious.

Simply knowing that there would be a conscious attempt to run the show from now on without any stops caused their humorous behaviors to subside. However, as occurs whenever anything is new, the cast staggered through their scenes, at first unsure of some of the new items in hand or within the environment around them. It was as though it was their first time on a bicycle or in a pair of high-heeled shoes.

Nonetheless, their musical numbers, blocking, and choreography were not new, and in these areas, the actors faired well by more freely giving themselves over to their roles. It was clear that everyone was

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making an effort. As performers’ desires to perform well increased, so did their levels of concentration.

Thus, rehearsals grew quieter and more focused. Everyone’s sense of this show was deepening.

During the last review run-through prior to stagger-throughs, it again was a Friday night, and actors/performers were eager to get their work done so that they could go out and socialize. Again, their concentration and energy levels were low. Nathan and Mitchell missed some parts during the musical warm-up rehearsal because they were talking and laughing. Ted called out, “Gentlemen, I need all your power . . . ! I’m hearing nice, solid sounds, but the diction is not there.” Later, he commented that a musical number they had run was sloppy: “It’s very sloppy. Some of you are marking. Sloppy!” A while later still, Ted noted that he suspected some still did not know the words to this ensemble number.

Therefore, he asked them to pick a partner, and every time they saw one another, they were to rehearse the lyrics to this song three times. This trend continued, as Ted noted, “This is not a music rehearsal. It’s both a music and blocking [rehearsal]. You’ve lost your acting.” After only a couple of hours into rehearsal, Ted dismissed the cast and crew for a much needed break.

Three additional behaviors were noted at this point. First, some attempted to interact with me, perhaps because they were more at ease already, or perhaps to enable them to be more at ease by reducing uncertainties about me and my role. Second, as actors/performers strove to become calmer and more comfortable in life and in role, they also developed a greater sense of territoriality in the auditorium in terms of where they placed their belongings nightly. Preferences for distinct sides of the house and rows surfaced. They also were managing other artifacts routinely, such as costume pieces, accessories, and props.

Third, it also appeared that clarity was added to how individuals prioritized their talents in terms of acting, singing, and dancing. In the theatre, one who is proficient at all three talents is known as a triple threat. Many did not see themselves as such, rather they may have seen themselves as first a singer and then an actor with little real talent for dance, or first a dancer and then an actor with less talent for

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singing, and so on. As the strengths and weaknesses of their skills surfaced and became more evident, actors’ motivation to do well appeared to increase.

Some technical staff and crew viewed the last two stagger-through rehearsals on Thursday and

Friday evenings. Not all attended either or both of those rehearsals, but all were invited to learn the show.

For those who attended, the artistic director welcomed them. In referring to the actors/performers, he stated, “I’ve look at all of you for better than a month, so I don’t want to see you again.” But in referring to the technical crew, he stated:

But those of you new tonight, welcome. You’ll see some things that are mucky, and we’re hoping you will fix them. I’m [Ted], the artistic director, and this is [Shawn], the musical director, and this is [Peter], the stage manager. [Peter] is in charge, and so you should ask him how many times he would like you to do something, how high, how many times, and do it twice. I’m so glad you are here.

We need you dearly, and we’re happy you’re here.

In addition to learning the show, as part of their indoctrination into the production process, technical staff and crew served as a hypothetical audience for the actors/performers. In essence, they role-played a lively group of patrons, highly responsive to the actions on stage as demonstrated via their hearty laughs, applause, whistles, whooping, and cheering sounds.

The robust, lively, animated atmosphere they stimulated propelled all performers into a high level of energy. This energy augmented humor usage strongly, or humor correlated strongly with heightened energy levels. In this case, at any rate, actors’/performers’ energy was used to enhance stage acting, singing, and dancing, thus it functioned like a motivating performance technique to round out the stagger- through phase of rehearsals.

Technical and/or Dress Rehearsals

As everyone approached technical and/or dress rehearsals, final plans were under way to improve upon those production elements already introduced, such as sets, props, properties, special effects, costumes, and accessories. Additionally, for the first time now members of the cast and crew would

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experience the inclusion of lighting and sound elements, other special effects such as chemical fog, final makeup and hair designs, smoother set changes, and general transitions from Act to Act and scene to scene. People would be asked to use facilities, such as restrooms and dressing rooms, in the back stage area as opposed to those in and around the house. Last but not least, new people were going to jump on board and be involved in the production process from here on out, which took some getting used to.

Recall that the technical staff and crew visited one or two stagger-through rehearsals to learn the show. So when they began their work, they had had an opportunity at least to meet the cast. They already had been involved in meetings with the directors and stage managers to discuss and plan for the needs of the production. Roles largely were assigned before coming on board. Of course, many members of the staff and crew already knew cast members from classes and other productions. But the group dynamics of both sets of people waxed and waned. More care should have been taken in merging of performers and technicians. But, although some were unhappy, most worked cooperatively in the best interest of the show.

The first technical rehearsal was the “dry-tech” rehearsal, as it is called. This night was primarily for technical personnel—designers, technicians, and crew. No actors/performers attended. Nor did I.

Only the directors and stage managers attended to help the staff work through the slow, yet essential process of cuing the show according to the script. Cues are notes that indicate what kind of visual or auditory sources are to be presented and when. Working from a script of the show, these people record and learn hundreds of lighting cues, dozens of sound and set or prop/property cues, and various special effect cues, as instructed by designers. Designers for each collaborative art area worked in concert with namely the artistic director. In addition, dressers needed to learn when and what to help actors/performers with in terms of costumes, hair, makeup, and/or accessories.

Following the dry-tech rehearsal, there was a second technical rehearsal held to help technical staff and crew practice the cues they had set the night before. This time, however, actors/performers would be present to perform their parts within the newly created or transformed stage world affected by

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the designers’ audio-visual effects. The emphasis, nonetheless, would be on all elements aside from actors’/performers’ costumes, makeup, and hair. Since this was the first bona fide rehearsal for the crew, they staggered through at least certain sections of the run. Periodically, certain mistakes required everyone to stop. Then either additional instructions or notes were provided or potential problems were fixed.

Actors/performers basically marked or walked through the show during the technical rehearsal.

They further were required to call on a generous amount of patience because they started and stopped frequently while waiting for crew to adjust their cues based on notes from the artistic director. The actors used a good deal of humor this evening in order to help pass the time and to keep the stress and potential conflicts inherent in the evening under control, but kept it low keyed. At the same time, they were committed to accommodating technical staff and crew.

Once dress and technical rehearsals transpired, all elements of the production came together in order to authenticate the time, place, and mood for the production. A small orchestra with a pianist, some strings, brass, and woodwind players was introduced in addition to the other audio-visual elements involved in the production. This again altered the structure and process of events. Simplicity by now was gone; the show had become technically demanding, requiring numerous additional people to execute the nightly ritual once self-sufficient with the cast, directors, and stage mangers. This generated new requirements for actors/performers, such as putting on their makeup, donning their costumes and accessories, and making various costume changes, sometimes involving very heavy costumes. Several actors/performers with many and/or difficult costume changes were assigned a dresser. All actors/performers also underwent nightly sound tests after putting on body microphones, and typically everyone double-checked their props and properties. These things on top of focusing on roles or characters, singing, and dancing catapulted actors/performers to a sophisticated level of ritualized responsibility that required mental, emotional, and physical adjustments and stamina.

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It is easy to see how humor usage tapered off as the technical aspects of the show were introduced and mounted. Indeed, coming into production, humor was replaced largely with a serious work ethic. As various technical elements were introduced, grumpiness and increased conflicts occurred due to largely diva moments, jealousies, or self-centered hindrances from other performers or production staff. Lots of adjustments were required—technically, interpersonally, psychologically—which demanded actors’/performers’ full attention. Also there was greater interest in performing well now, a preoccupation that coincided with the need to get down to work to polish each cast member’s performance.

Toward the end of three dress/tech rehearsals, the show began to take on a life of its own. The costumes and makeup appeared to deepen actors’/performers’ characterizations. Despite or because of a number of misfired cues, flubbed lines, and unwanted technical difficulties, actors/performers and technical staff worked harder and harder to present a seamless show. Each night their commitment to the show deepened and the coordination of production elements strengthened. As cast and crew experienced pressure to rise to the occasion of opening night, humor tapered off, only to rise again after the start of the run.

Performances

Once the production opened, the artistic director gave Green Room talks approximately one hour before show time. These were more poignant and serious than notes, more inspirational than instructive.

Cast members and crew likewise remained somber and attentive during this time. This was in contrast to the humor used by the directors and actors/performers earlier during note giving and taking sessions.

Naturally, each performance included the same rituals established during technical and dress rehearsals.

Actors/performers had to arrive at the theatre early enough to get into their makeup and costumes, check their props and properties, and have a microphone sound check. They also needed to save time for personal needs and to relax and warm up. Below are various findings regarding the opening night performance. Following that there are other findings related to all ten subsequent performances.

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Opening Night

When opening night arrived, humor increased, but this time under the guise of excitement. Gifts, usually of food, flowers, and cards, were exchanged graciously among the cast and crew in gratitude for their hard work, for pulling the show together, and for their friendship and help. Ted had two bouquets of flowers he was bringing for a couple of leads in the show; other people were delivering bouquets of flowers to various cast members also. There were a variety of types of candies and cookies sitting out as well as the exchanging of cards and/or the posting of cards on the wall above the food in the hallway outside the dressing rooms. Mattie and Ralph gave me a card and a small basket. Folks wished each other much luck, extolling the time honored theatrical phrase, “Break a leg!”

In addition, arrangements were being made for a couple of parties this evening. When I arrived,

Peter was writing directions to the opening night cast and crew party on a chalkboard in the hallway outside the dressing rooms. Katherine had made the party arrangements. Everyone was invited to a local sports bar to celebrate the opening. Furthermore, Shawn had taped a flyer on the door between the stage and the backstage dressing area announcing a potluck cookout on Sunday at his house. Both events, again, added to the excitement of the evening.

In his opening Green Room talk, Ted reminisced about when he was in college. Because he needed money for school, he had condescended to play a clown for a young people’s theatre. His job was to greet youngsters, many of whom came to the theatre for the first time. Much to his surprise, he was touched by the enthusiasm, energy, and joy the children felt, so much so that he never wanted to do anything but give that magic feeling to people through his work as an theatre artist. He then imparted the following directive, “We owe it to them to give them the best show possible because they are our future; someone gave you the magic once, and now it’s your turn to give it to these folks.”

Opening night was a time of deepened camaraderie and appreciation. I made note of graffiti that had been written especially for oneself or for other’s friends too. Graffiti was written on the opposite side of the wall behind the upstage crossover space and on the backs of various set pieces. One piece of

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graffiti said, “What the hell? Didn’t you hear that cue I didn’t give? Hello! Is anyone listening,” signed

“[Peter, the stage manager]” (1GR1). Another said, “[Joe Smith’s] 5 Lessons of Life: 1. Laugh every day; 2. Drink a glass of milk every day; 3. Don’t do #’s 1. and 2. at the same time or milk will fly out your nose; 4. If #3. happens, clean up your mess; 5. Everyday for 3 seconds—just think of butterflies”

(2GR1). Yet other examples read, “[Joe’s] spot,” followed by a large, black dot (4GR1), “Don’t you dare read this!” (5GR1), “Shit! I dropped something on stage” (8GR1), and “Sleep? What’s that?” (1PH1).

Additional examples included a lot of “Hello’s,” “Yo’s,” and “This is for . . . ,” plus amusing pictures for friends of a dog waving (10GR1), a bongo player playing (10GR1), or happy faces smiling or laughing

(6GR1, 3GR1), for example. These upbeat acts of humor, whether written within the past week or past hour, helped to build group cohesion and enliven people.

Cast and crew naturally were pumped up with positive energy for the run of the show, including the long awaited “live” audiences about to fill the house. I was told that the audience for opening night consisted of many family members and friends. As such, it was one of the most highly responsive audiences out of eleven. They laughed often, clapped at the end of each number, and even offered a few whistles for stellar performances. The audience catapulted the actors’/performers’ energy level to an all time high, and it succeeded in becoming contagious. I found myself beaming with pride at how well the cast performed this evening. Certain moments that I had recorded as repeatedly not clicking finally clicked this night.

Primary problems in this performance were with the sound—a microphone was not turned on in time to be heard on stage, monitor speakers interfered with the sound system, causing some feedback, and the orchestra overpowered the performers’ singing sometimes. In addition, a platform was not pushed far enough on stage to keep an actor in the light, so he performed in very dim lighting. Two actresses lost their hats, but cohorts easily retrieved them later. Someone came back on stage in high-heeled shoes rather than flats, and one actress appeared to have trouble retrieving a prop. However, since most opening

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night mistakes were covered well, they did not detract from the excitement and overall effectiveness of the show.

Subsequent Nights

Once the run of a show began, humor continued as a way of helping people work together back stage to carry out their tasks effectively. At this point, the repetition of each performance required everyone to be alert, pulling their weight individually and collectively. However, the learning curve had reached a plateau. People were over the hump, thus they were able to relax and socialize, especially production staff, given after several performances, he or she knew their jobs well. Complacency, boredom, fatigue, and/or arrogance set in, requiring a prescription of humor to help ensure consistently good work and good relations.

Humor spiked when audience responses to the eleven performances—opening night, one matinee, and nine other evening performances—were highly favorable. From the perspective of participants, performances played in generally the same manner, as they had during later rehearsals. The cast had reached a general plateau, although there were complaints of ad libbing and upstaging. Certainly, however, when an audience was responsive in terms of laughing, clapping, and/or making other sounds of appreciation, it had an instrumental effect on cast and crew. That is, a charged audience led to charged performances, performances that contained more energy and emotional vitality than otherwise, although they remained predictable.

Below is an overview of subsequent performances. Prior to the second performance, Ted noted during his Green Room talk that after a good opening night, theatre folks often let down their guard, resulting in a second night performance that is the worst show of all; he cautioned everyone to guard against this. Furthermore, he cautioned cast members not to worry themselves about what they should and should not have done. “You have ten shows to fix all those things,” he noted, “so not to worry.”

At intermission, Ted was concerned that the audience was not responding. He noted that it was an older crowd. However, the audience’s applause began during the last dance number, and did not stop

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until the curtain call was over. Nonetheless, someone commented after the show that the whole performance should have ended at the end of Act I.

The third performance took place on a Saturday night. Thus far I noted that the auditorium had not been full to capacity. There were maybe two hundred people seated in the over three hundred seat house, more than were present for the first two nights. During his Green Room talk, Ted noted that a

Saturday night audience should be more responsive than last night’s. Indeed, audience response was friendly and upbeat. The sound, including actors’/performers’ microphones, was much better for this performance.

Prior to the start of the fourth performance, during Ted’s Green Room talk, he noted that this

Sunday matinee performance, beginning at 3:00 p.m., would consist of mostly elderly patrons. He noted that theatre folks often refer to elderly audiences as the “Sea of Blue” because of the blue haired folks whose charm bracelets tinkle when they clap. “The sea of tinkles is created by the charms of their grandchildren. They will clap and respond,” he continued, “but not as much as some audiences because they are older.” Some folks found his comments amusing, and responded with smiles and light laughter.

Further, Ted noted that some actors were changing the show with ad libs. “Don’t do this,” he asserted,

“It’s rude and throws off your fellow actors. It’s not what we rehearsed, and can throw a scene off balance.”

By the end of the show, the audience responded with hearty claps on the curtain call. The lead characters enjoyed extra robust claps and even some yelps. Six to seven actors waved to the audience, a gesture started by Richard opening night.

The fifth performance was a school day matinee for junior high school students. Although I did not attend this performance, some actors/performers indicated that the performance had gone smoothly. It was nice for them to have Shawn back on the piano, they noted. No orchestra was used. They also liked the question and answer session that followed the performance. According to Constance, Flo, a senior, talked with students during this forum about the difference between high school and college theatre.

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Various other cast members talked about how they got their roles, if they had received the roles they wanted, and what the overall experience of putting this show together was like.

Prior to the start of the sixth performance, I learned that Mitchell had sprained his ankle on

Sunday. He fell during an exit due to the slick, leather boots he was wearing. After receiving care from a physician, he was placed on crutches, which he used outside the production. Within the show, he used a cane and a walking stick to help him navigate.

In Ted’s Green Room talk, he noted that the lobby was filled with folks who would kill for a ticket, given the word on the street was that the show was pretty good. Of course, a number of students from English and other classes on campus received credit for attending theatre productions, so they may have had assignments based on the show. He noted that performances were solid now, and encouraged everyone to keep up the good work.

The audience for the sixth show was sluggish, sedate. The cast too lacked energy and focus, perhaps due to the strain of a second performance in one day. The audience was not laughing, even at predictable moments, or their laughter came in late. Luke noted that this audience “sucked, they were so quiet.” However, curtain call was good. The audience’s applause built, especially for the leads. The top lead, as was often the case, got the most claps and yelps. I wondered how well these actors would compete in the theatre world.

Ralph, Hilda, and a few others helped me prior to the start of the seventh performance, as I carried in food to feed the cast and staff. My gesture of feeding them one evening was my means of thanking the staff and cast and showing them my deep appreciation for allowing me to be a part of this production. It also was the time to mount a sign-up sheet and to ask cast and staff members to schedule a time for their individual interviews with me after the production. All were highly cooperative, and very grateful for the food.

During his Green Room talk, Ted noted that the parents of a previous student of his had seen the show the night before, and had emailed him this day that Ted’s show was better than the production they

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had seen of it at a local professional theatre. He complimented the cast for being so talented, but also urged them to be excellent scholars, keeping up with their homework and studies, and excellent friends, remaining supportive and helpful to one another. He then wished them a good show, one with focus and energy.

This seventh performance was the best I had seen. The curtain call received more hearty claps, whistles (one from me), and a standing ovation from some. The audience responded better than the group’s family members and friends at the end of the opening night performance. Again, it was evident that the positive feedback greatly boosted the actors’/performers’ energy, focus and motivation. The show really gelled.

At the opening of the eighth performance, Ted stated, in his Green Room talk, that they enjoyed their best show the night before largely because they had the best audience they have had. He cautioned them to check their ad libbing by saying, “The guy who wrote this piece deserves to have it done as it is written.” He further noted, “The love you gave to the audience and to each other last night was great.

Life goes so much easier when you get along and are good to one another.” In addition, Ted reminded everyone of the photo shoot after this evening’s performance. He asked that all keep smiling, as the photographer who would join them this evening was known to become cantankerous sometimes; but if they kept smiling, the shoot would go faster, and they could get out earlier, he promised.

The timing of the eighth performance was a bit off for most everyone. Pauses seemed a bit too long. Audience response was even, but unenthusiastic. Clapping remained level for leads and others, but at least it was a decent set of claps at curtain call.

Again, after this eighth performance, there was a photo shoot that lasted an hour and a half, from

11:00 p.m. until 12:30 a.m. Thirty-six or thirty-seven poses had been ear marked by the artistic director,

Ted, prior to the shoot. Thus, during the shoot, it was time efficient and easy to move from pose to pose.

Ted called these out to the actors/performers starting from the end of the play and working his way back

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to the beginning of the play. The paid photographer took his group shots first; various other people, including myself, took photographs second.

During the photo shoot, Ted and the cast engaged in play and humor of a type that was reminiscent of the early days of rehearsals. Cast members, in particular, fooled around physically, tempting the cameras with silly, flirtatious, risqué poses. For example, Mattie, sitting on the stage floor facing up stage, did a plunge with her legs over her head and plowed her feet into the stage floor while exposing her derriere. Seeing an opportunity, Richard crossed around to her back, and pretended to fornicate. Hilda walked around as though she was a male, and joined this pose. Others soon joined in as well by connecting with the tableau of sexual poses until one large picture of an orgy was created. At an earlier point when Richard was making hip-hop moves, doing splits, and striking sexual poses, Ted told him to transfer to [Random University], singing “There’s a place for you, somewhere a place for you.”

In his Green Room talk at the start of the ninth performance, Ted noted that everyone seemed to have fun last night, but didn’t work very hard. It was good for them, but not the audience, Ted noted.

“The show was sloppier. Sloppier and wandering around,” he contended. In addition to asking cast members again to stop ad libbing, he said that he hoped they listened to his Green Room talks because they were well thought out and presented to help the actors/performers. He wished them a great show.

I had made arrangements with the stage managers to observe this show from back stage. Ted agreed to my being back stage also, but cautioned me not to move around. During my time stage right for

Act I and stage left for Act II, I made various interesting observations. There were fans going to circulate air and to keep the wings cool. Most everyone seemed relaxed and in tune with what they needed to do.

It was obvious that Mitchell’s foot was bothering him. Hilda continued to pretend to copulate with John from behind. Someone in jeans and an orange top, whom I had never seen before, appeared briefly, and was gone. Katherine remained steady and intent on fixing a prop that had been damaged. Some sound system feedback roared through the speakers. Luke thought that he had broken a chair and hurt his hand a bit. A crew member reported to Katherine that the back support on one of the set pieces had broken off

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and would need to be fixed by tomorrow. The costumer and her assistant danced along with cast members for the final numbers in Acts I and II. They informed me that they imitated as much of the on stage dance as they could, then made up their own dance steps.

Prior to Act II, Paul gave me an excellent vantage point stage left. I watched the lead character diligently prepare herself for each entrance by pacing to and fro in the wings. I was told by a crew member that someone in the audience this night should be able to get the audience going with excellent laughs and claps. I noted some of the actors exiting from a tender scene on stage, and then aggressively hitting and throwing a baby doll prop. I, again, watched the costumer and her assistant dance in the wings stage right along with the cast on stage. I listened to a member of the crew inform me about a conflict that had occurred the night before, with which Andrew had helped him. I watched the person operating the fog machine take a series of pictures of the show from the wings for a photography class. I watched numerous people perform their stage functions in order to insure the smooth progression of the performance.

Curtain call solicited some nice claps for this ninth performance. Gentlemen appeared to be used to escorting the ladies on stage for bows, and allowing them to bow first. It was a gentile maneuver, executed gracefully. I noted that these actors were doing a good job and growing.

There were a lot of latecomers to the tenth performance, presumably due to traffic. In his opening Green Room talk, Ted noted that Saturday night audiences always are unpredictable. Due to a bad sinus cold, he kept his comments brief, but wished everyone a good show. There were two good laughers in the crowd this evening, one in the upper stage right seating area of the house and one just behind the center of the house. They kept audience responses lively. Although three audience members left during curtain call, the rest applauded energetically. Applause built for the three key leads. The show definitely had a life of its own now.

During Ted’s Green Room talk for the eleventh and final matinee performance, he stated, “This will be the last time we will be on this journey.” He cautioned everyone against playing amateur games.

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“Don’t,” he asserted, “Be professional! You are trying to be a professional. Some of you are new. Your strong, positive attitudes and professionalism will speak to your future here.” He continued to urge everyone to be articulate, focused, concentrated, and motivated. He ended by saying, “I love you.”

Act I was nearly completed when suddenly a fire alarm sounded. The audience remained in their seats, but actors/performers exited the stage. House lights went up. Before long, the Box Office Manager came to the back of the house, and asked everyone to leave the auditorium in an orderly fashion. She pointed out the exits below and above. Gradually, the audience arose and calmly made their way out of the theatre.

Sirens were heard approaching. After a while, the majority of people still standing outside were informed that a fog machine used in the show had set off an alarm due to closed ventilation doors at the top of the fly space. Word was spread around that we would return to the theatre for the end of Act I.

Then there would be a ten-minute intermission, and we would return for Act II. Two hours had transpired since the start of the show. Some patrons left. Fortunately, most patrons finished seeing the show.

When the audience was back in the theatre, Mitchell appeared down stage right, noted that Act I had only five minutes of material left when the fire alarm went off, and also stated, “It [the show] was going so well before the interruption, I guess you could say we were on fire.” The audience laughed and clapped in response to his comment, the orchestra pinged out a high note, and the audience settled down tension free for the rest of the production. House lights stayed on for a while in anticipation of latecomers returning to the theatre. The final performance proceeded without a hitch.

The curtain call received an abundance of applause. Clapping was especially robust for the leads, particularly females, a trend that I had observed at different times during the run of the show. It was a pleasant ending for a long run of performances.

After the performance was over, the actors quickly undressed and returned to the stage to help strike the show. To strike a show means to dismantle the scenic elements of a show and either remove them or store them. Indeed, the costumers were anxious to get all the costumes back upstairs to the

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costume shop where they either would ship them back to rental houses or have them cleaned and stored within the Department. The technical crew worked diligently to tear down sets, lights, sound, props, properties, and special effects. Actors took care of their makeup and hair accessories. The orchestra was responsible for all the musical instruments. There was the usual hustle and bustle of activity that goes along with a strike. Still given the very frenzy of activity, everyone needed to exercise safety precautions.

Folks said goodbyes, but no one took me up on any of my offers to help, so after I finished taking some pictures, I left approximately one half hour into the strike. Leaving the production was a bittersweet experience.

Reflections on Structures and Processes

Directors’ Conceptual Frameworks

Artistic director.

As rehearsal run-throughs progressed, noticeable improvements surfaced. A couple of things that motivated these improvements appeared to be actors’ own innate needs to do well, for one, and their directors’ instructions and notes, for another. The artistic director, Ted, appeared to sacrifice attention to details by avoiding structured, stop-and-start, polishing rehearsals. Rather he was concerned about performers’ well being and openness to creative impulses within themselves. Therefore, although he did not push heavily, he gave actors a great deal of freedom to listen to themselves to create their own roles.

He did provide ample opportunities for run-throughs and notes, while staunchly pushing for undeniable intelligibility of lines and lyrics through flawless voice and diction work; and he did push for overall polish and predictability, but he avoided giving away the actors’ characterizations and/or emotional development.

The artistic director, Ted, noted that he liked his rehearsals to be informal, relaxed, and focused on the actors/performers. “I like to keep it kind of informal in rehearsal as much as I can,” he stated, “It is designed to give them an opportunity both on and off stage to do the things that they need to do. It is not designed to take time away from them.” He later stated, “I very rarely ask a bunch of actors to sit around

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me and watch a scene and see how we can make it better. The teacher in me may want to be that way.

That is not what a rehearsal process works as. It gets in the way of their own creation of characters.”

Ted blocked this show more slowly than he ordinarily does due to the degree of musical difficulty within the show. He also noted that since there was less dancing involved in this show than in some musicals, he had the opportunity to slow down. Ted confirmed that he managed to keep the cast on schedule, if not a little ahead of schedule, despite the slowness of his blocking.

Of course, Shawn and myself, at least, found Ted’s blocking and choreographic rehearsals to be the antithesis of slow. Shawn stated, “He would say, ‘It never took me so long to block this show’; It took him, what, a week?” Indeed, it took him eight rehearsals to block and choreograph this musical production. Along with Shawn’s three musical rehearsals and a couple of technical rehearsals, it took less than two weeks to map out the production. Still it took sixteen run-throughs to bring all aspects of the production to fruition.

Further, Ted indicated that the structure of his rehearsals often depended on the nature of the show being produced. For this show, he felt that actors/performers needed “the flowing, running pace of the show.” He contended that the manner in which scenes merged and divided in this show caused him to refrain from starting and stopping until all were very well blocked. Ted referred to detailed work as follows: “I think that would help them more than me being knit-picky about this, that, or the other. It is just the nature of the play [to call for more of a flow]. Other plays I am [involved in are] much more knit- picky.” Still Ted did engage the group in a couple of rehearsals wherein he stopped and started scenes to work on refining details of characterizations and meanings.

In addition, Ted asserted that he finds rehearsals to be the primary vehicle for helping actors develop their acting, singing, and dancing roles. “I think that to a large extent a lot of this [role work] happens in rehearsals because it is very hard to run scenes and work on these things without everybody else there,” he noted. Although Shawn and he worked with students individually outside of rehearsals,

Ted claimed that most of students’ work occurred during rehearsals. This was necessary, Ted continued,

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because these students were full-time and many worked, making it difficult to work on the show at times outside of rehearsals.

Regarding characterizations, Ted asked the actors to bring new ideas to rehearsals each night in order to help them develop their roles. He was a firm believer in allowing actors the freedom to create their own roles. Telling them what to do was wrong in his book. He stated:

Their own individual adaptations are sometimes subconsciously done. My blocking initially is

skeletal. It is there for them to adapt to and to move around to change it. In the beginning I have

the characters in the palm of my hand. As they grow and develop, they become much more their

own.

So from the perspective of performance, Ted believed in maintaining a loose structure. Instead he leaned on the actors/performers to create their roles or characters in their own right.

The artistic director, to his credit, noted early on that he saw Acts I and II as distinct from one another. For example, as he said in his interview, “I wanted the first act to be positive and sunny, so that the much darker second act would have a lot to say to the audience.” He emphasized that the message of this musical theatre piece was as important one. He admitted that some characters were more two- dimensional and others more three-dimensional, but in the end he felt that the actors/performers had managed to convey the message appropriately. They pulled it off. He blamed Act II and its potentially faulty writing, but felt the actors/performers in this production had done as well as could be expected.

Musical director.

On the other hand, Shawn focused heavily on performers’ vocal dynamics, including articulation as well as crescendos, decrescendos, rhythms, pitches, tempos, and harmonies. The students and he would have been pleased with more time to work on specific musical and vocal details. However, Shawn and his students were seized only brief interludes of time at the onset of and during each rehearsal, and private sessions outside rehearsals for vocal polishing.

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The musical director used a moderate flow of humor reportedly to build rapport, generate spontaneity, and gain acceptance for his method of working. Likewise, his rehearsals were fast paced, high-energy sessions parallel to the pace and tempo of the production.

Shawn noted that he came from an opera background, wherein the score is available prior to rehearsals. In musical theatre, it costs to do so. However, his point was that he was used to working with people that worked ahead and were always prepared when they came to rehearsals. At this University, he noted, “I would love to always have more time, and the other thing is the students here don’t learn the show outside of rehearsal.” Relying heavily on rehearsals for all production work made it difficult for

Shawn to encourage creativity musically. As a result, he added, “I end up pulling people into here [my studio] in the afternoon, and trying to shape a little because my standards are higher. It’s not just ‘get it learned.’”

If Shawn could have had his way, he would have had two days at the beginning of each rehearsal merely to survey the music with the actors. Then he would have liked half of all rehearsal sessions (two hours) for the first week and a half. After that, he would have been content with his half hour slot of time for warm-ups at the start of each blocking, review, and stagger-through rehearsal. He added, “You can only drill something so many times in one night [without losing time on the piece].”

Shawn also would have liked to have an assistant director or stage manager to help him take notes, and more time to share his notes with his performers during rehearsals. This would have provided the chance to work on the accuracy of students’ singing. As it was, he worried about people not fully understanding their harmony, not singing correctly, and, therefore, potentially hurting their voices. Some people only wanted to fix a problem quickly rather than fix the technique. Without rehearsal time for such work, he felt handicapped, and felt the students suffered to a small degree because of it.

Students could have been given certain exercises to help focus them on areas needing work both vocally and acting-wise. They could have been expected to work on these areas either within or outside of rehearsals. Their levels of concentration, characterizations, and vocal dynamics may have been

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enhanced via such practices, but again time was not dedicated to such activities. After musical, blocking, and dance instructions, actors/performers primarily ran through the Acts and received notes from both the artistic and musical directors.

Both directors gave actors the freedom to explore their characters and how they fit into the production as a whole without burdening them with intellectual interpretations about the show’s meanings. In some actors’ minds, this led to the lack of a clear spine or through-line. This also led to a good rather than a great example of musical theatre, since without a controlling concept, the play lacked unity and coherence.

Feedback

Characterization and controlling concept.

Characters for this production ran the gamut from dangerous, carnal, menacing, and foreboding to innocent, naïve, helpful, and adventuresome. All were comic characters who were two- and/or three- dimensional. This juxtaposition of character qualities made for a quality drama complete with obstacles, crises, conflicts, and climaxes. The characters’ qualities even became the subject of humorous dialogues and/or pantomimes about, for example, dangerous villains and damsels in distress, damsels trying to stop villains, a husband helping his pregnant wife off the ground, warriors slaying monsters threatening the peace and well-being of innocent bystanders. However, how characters were played was up to each actor/performer.

Since actors/performers were given a lot of leeway to do what they wanted to do, some reportedly portrayed two- and others three-dimensional characters instead of each growing as the show progressed form two- to three-dimensional, from unrealistic to realistic and human. This gave rise to concerns that the show created a grab-bag effect, leading to an incoherent and unaesthetic production.

The artistic director, however, during an Act I rehearsal one evening, did indicate that he was concerned about the consistency of characters. “If you drop a line, I don’t mind. If you drop a character, I mind,” he asserted, “I want to see your characters in everything you do—standing, sitting, moving, dancing.” He

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further noted that they were ten days into working, and by the end of the week, they would be putting the show together. So he urged actors to begin to work on their characterizations.

To work on their characterizations, Ted provided actors/performers with the following guidance.

First, he asked actors to continue to experiment with fresh, creative ideas for their characters nightly and to try using them as they rehearsed. This was useful advice, given, as Ted noted, “The first decisions that we make are not necessarily the right ones, and they need to rethink what they are doing periodically to all the time to make sure that they can make it better each time that they walk on stage.” He said that older, more experienced, and more highly trained actors/performers do better with this directive than younger, less educated and inexperienced actors/performers.

Second, how well actors/performers used techniques of acting to help them develop characters varied according to the individuals. In the theatre, it is understood that what works for some, may not work for others. Thus directors typically do not provide instruction in such techniques during rehearsal processes. As Ted indicated, “Some actors can write it out, and need to write it out. Others may consciously think about it, but they don’t actually write it down. . . . They are not all trained by the same acting teacher. . . . Everybody has a different technique. My job is to make sure that they all get to the same play.” Indeed, Ted noted that their Department offered students an eclectic mix of acting techniques from which to determine an individual method of acting, including creating characters. But, as he added, “Older actors do better than younger actors. Actors with more training and more experience did better. It is a process idea, and it is something that young actors need to understand.”

On the other hand, Shawn felt that slowing down and spending more time on notes would have helped actors develop their characters with greater confidence. He was particularly interested in more discussion about characterizations. He stated:

What I don’t understand is that in place of notes [the way they were given], why didn’t we stop

and discuss the notes at the time? I think we had plenty of opportunity for continuity at the end of

the run. I don’t think there was enough character building going on. We never sat down, and

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talked character as a group. We never did it. I was thinking what is this person thinking here?

Who are you? What are you talking about? I did that with each one of them on their own, and

have done that with each one of them. I tried to kind of make something work together, but that

is not my job.

This being said, Shawn, however, did believe that the artistic director provided actors/performers with his vision of the production early on in the rehearsal process. At least he was certain that Ted had one. In a nutshell, Shawn reported, “I think that really [Ted was pushing for] just a fairy tale, and not a cartoon, and that ever present [character] growth from non-realistic to real [from Act I to Act II].”

Shawn’s view regarding the actors’/performers’ abilities to use acting techniques to develop their characters was dismal. He stated:

I think it is hit or miss. I think a lot of them are in a state of flux. Particularly in this show, there

were a lot of people that have just learned a whole lot, and don’t know how to use everything yet.

If you stop them, and remind them of their technique, they are good.

` Thus, when put into context, most actors/performers within this production were not at a level of training and/or experience yet conducive to working agilely with acting techniques. Shawn summarized,

“I think they are a work in progress. They can’t take what they know and have it be their habit yet. I think they are on the way, and it is a matter of practice.”

Although the directors did give actors/performers some instructions regarding their characters and the show’s vision, the perception was that it was not enough. So since they perceived less feedback available from the artistic and musical directors for their characterizations, the actors/performers sometimes turned to individuals outside the production for help. For example, they sought help with both comic timing and/or characterization from vocal coaches, other theatre teachers or directors, and/or their peers. Some tried to work more conscientiously during standard rehearsal times by experimenting with a variety of ways to capitalize on capturing the humor inherent in the concept of his or her character and/or lines.

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Few worked as conscientiously as possible on his or her own, but, again, solo work in the theatre is difficult to do when actual stage work involves interactions with others. Theatre enterprises are interdependent by nature, thus most acting work is accomplished during actual rehearsal time. There was little actors could do on their own. So they gained help from fellow actors, or received no help at all beyond the rehearsal process offered.

Furthermore, actors/performers appeared eager to solicit as much information as possible to help them discover and develop their roles. Their perceptions were that information about the artistic director’s controlling concept would help them improve their vision of the show and, hence, the way they should develop their characters to fit into that framework. Most also desired input regarding their perceptions of themselves and their roles versus others’ perceptions of the same, and they yearned for distinctions between their real versus ideal roles. They felt that a better understanding all the way around would have helped them perform better.

Comic technique and timing.

Additionally, actors/performers were interested in generating the appropriate comic timing in order to elicit laughter from audiences after their comic punch lines. The director allowed each actor the freedom to make their lines funny in their own way. Although they were directed to discover comic timing for themselves, the actors/performers felt lost in doing so. They needed parameters regarding when to imply humor, how to imply it, and what it meant to their character, other characters, and/or the script as a whole. Their questions remained without clear explanation. How were they suppose to analyze what was funny?

Again, both body language and vocal inflections were regarded as critical in mastering comic timing. How to pull this off, however, remained a question, even after the production was over. One person was confused about what a sight gag is. Another added that he/she felt that comedy is harder to perform than tragedy. One actress named Flo noted:

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Time doesn’t matter as much [in dramatic material]. I think the majority of people in the world think that humor is harder to reach. Comedy is harder to do than tragedy because it’s all about timing and some people just don’t have it. I felt like that’s easier than tragedy for me. I guess I’m just lucky in that way for me. The first thing I ever did was comedy and they were cracking up. I was like, “I’m funny.”

On the other hand, both directors, especially the artistic director, did give a number of rehearsal notes that were designed to help actors achieve effective comic timing. It would be impossible to list them all here.

However, how to achieve comic timing according to the actors needed to be demonstrated rather than merely described. Without demonstrations of comic timing, actors appeared to be unable to interpret the director’s notes in an actionable way.

Furthermore, some were surprised by where laughter actually occurred among bona fide audiences as a result of comic timing and techniques. One actress, Gertrude, was surprised that one of her lines received the largest laugh in the show. Conversely, some actors were mystified when their comic lines did not receive the laughs they thought they would. Various other actors were surprised that one of the leads, Richard, got so many laughs. They had not anticipated such strong audience responses to him, although he had.

Some bemoaned that they could never figure out how to get a line to ring appropriately in order to ignite laughter. One said he never figured it out until the show was over. Finally, to the surprise of various actors, they came to realize that some audiences fail to laugh when expected. Sometimes they merely smile, give a silent nod, or laugh only semi-audibly. On the other hand, some audiences were more demonstrative and generous with claps, whistles, yelps, and laughs than others. But those that were quiet and reserved were the hardest for actors/performers to understand. A lack of laughter at key moments in this musical comedy production was perceived as a sign of dissatisfaction with the artists and/or the production.

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Audience laughter.

Several performances were catapulted to an all time high level of performance quality due to the caliber of the audience responses to the actors/performers. The seventh performance enjoyed the most responsive audience feedback during the run of the show. These individuals collectively demonstrated lots of hearty claps, long-enduring laughs, shrill whistles, and even a partial standing ovation. This audience was better than that of the opening night, which, because it contained many family members and friends, was highly responsive.

The tenth performance benefited from a couple of good laughers, known as “clackers,” who helped to propel the rest of the audience into more steady and ongoing laughter. The eleventh and final performance enjoyed a responsive audience as well—one that gave robust applause during the curtain call, threw in a few whoops, and clapped with added vigor for the leads, especially the female leads.

The Infrastructure: Who Engaged in Humor and How?

When and where humor was used is the goal of other sections of this Chapter. Within this second section of Chapter 3, the focus is on who engaged in humor within our musical theatre production and how. To put it another way, in addition to who engaged in humor, how humor was used is synonymous with what kind of humor was used per participant in this study. Findings revealed that humor usage ranged from positive to negative, from back-stage humor to on stage humor, from self-disparaging to other-disparaging, and from the type of humor used by leaders to that employed by actors/performers. In all of these kinds, attention was given to various types of physical and/or verbal humor.

The use of humor to cope with stress, tensions, and anxieties also is addressed below, although most of this type of information is discussed already within the fourth section of Chapter 3, which deals with what contributed to participants’ stress, tensions, and anxieties. Masking and unmasking behaviors as well as means of dealing with mistakes and personal shortcomings are discussed and illustrated from the findings in the fifth and final section.

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In the next section, the age of participants and their maturity levels are discussed in addition to trait-like humor, self-deprecating humor, and masked humor. Imitation is another broad based type of humor. Beyond that, this section of Chapter 3 is divided into (a) physical forms of humor and (b) verbal forms of humor. Physical forms of humor that are exemplified include: kinesthetic learning, additional physical activity, touching behaviors, dramatizations, choreography and dance, amusing physical accidents, and sexual humor. Sexual humor is subdivided into background for sexual phenomena, trait- like sexual humor, choreography and dance, relational intimacy, sexual innuendos, mocking sexuality, nudity, homosexual humor, females imitating males, and males imitating females. On the other hand, verbal forms of humor include the following: puns, analogies/similes/metaphors, stories, onomatopoeia, humorous or jocular expressions, and exaggerations, mimicry and understatement, wit, sarcasm and disparaging humor, and dangerous humor. Finally, musical underscoring will be considered.

Overall Characteristics of Who Used Humor and How

Whether on or off stage, Ted, the artistic director, noted that the type of humor used by actors had a lot to do with their ages and maturity level. “Humor in youthful actors is based on adolescence, and adolescent humor to a large extent,” he claimed. Ted continued, “I think that as they get older . . . their sense of humor, and what they find funny and amusing, and what they don’t find funny or amusing, just changes.” Regarding young actors’ humor, Ted said growing up is part of life: “That doesn’t have anything to do with theatre.” He further emphasized that our type of humor matures and changes over time.

Presumably, adolescent humor, which also could be referred to as low comedy, is broad and physical, relying on bodily functions and farcical gestures and movement for effect. Mature humor is characteristically of a higher level, involving intellectual prowess and predominantly verbal forms of expression. Throughout the production process, leaders were observed using verbal forms of humor more frequently whereas actors were using predominantly physical forms.

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In addition, some people were said to possess trait-like tendencies for using humor. For example, funny people were said to lighten the mood, to create a positive climate, and to foster healthy interactions with others. One participant felt that people were funniest when their humor was closest to their own personality. Most indicated that some people simply are funny by nature, possessing a knack, a gift, or a talent for humor. As such, they often become labeled as a funny sometimes in terms of a type of humor they use: a person using satire becomes a satirist or a wit. In addition, since these people often are responsible for starting humor, others hold high and ongoing expectations for them to be funny. They then are sought out to keep the humor alive. Others pick up on this, and keep the humor ball bouncing.

Some examples follow. Nathan stated, “My ex-girl friend . . . who is in the next play, she is the funniest person ever. She really is. She is just funny.” In addition, Nathan noted that “Funny begets funny.” In referring to Ted, Hilda stated, “Yeah. I knew [Ted before this show]. He’s funny.” Ted was known for his sarcasm, wit, and analogies.

Of course, others cited Hilda as possessing trait-like humor. Bettie said this: “Heaven knows, well, some people just have a gift. [Hilda] is just funny. She is always going to be funny. She just has natural, God-given comic talent.” Gertrude confirmed that Hilda was a naturally funny person by noting,

“She kept the humor alive. I mean when a lot of other people lost it, there were some people that seemed like they just always had [humor].”

Bettie also indicated that Nathan was funny in a corny kind of way, adding that regardless of the type of humor people used, humor helped to break the ice and allow actors to become vulnerable on stage.

Ralph assigned himself the trait of using a “carnal sense of humor,” and added, “I am probably one of those people more that jokes around like that, and doesn’t shy away from that.” Richard was another actor who possessed trait-like humor. He was observed engaging predominantly in physical and sexual humor, but he also used verbal puns. Finally, Shawn was amusing most of the time in addition to being a hard worker. His musical rehearsals were good examples of his reliance on stories, puns, word plays, and musical sound effects.

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Various participants in this project used self-deprecating humor and play throughout the musical theatre production. The directors engaged in the most self-deprecating humor observed. Next would be various actors/performers, who may have received a criticism from a note or who may have made a mistake or were aware of a personal shortcoming. They might demonstrate their humor publicly, such as

“Now I have to learn to walk again.” Some joked around with others about what they needed to work on; typically the other would tease the self-deprecator as well. Self-deprecating humor is discussed more fully in the fourth section of this Chapter within a sub-category covering perceptions of mistakes and personal shortcomings.

Physical Humor

Kinesthetic Learning

Kinesics is the study of bodily movements as a means of communication. Kinesthetic learning is learning characterized by doing. When asked if actors/performers had a tendency to be kinetic learners,

Ted replied, “They tend to be in a business that requires them to move, to make decisions in that movement, in combination with other ways to learn. When they are learning roles for the first time, they tend to learn auditorily. They can also learn kinesthetically at the same time. They do not rely on one method of learning.”

Observations revealed that actors lived predominantly in their bodies rather than in their heads.

Singing, dancing, and acting are physical acts. They required thought, but not during their execution. So mental work took place in between actual performances and perhaps rehearsals. It, however, appeared that most used their rehearsal time to capitalize on their roles.

Additional Physical Activity

At both callbacks and the first musical rehearsal, the actors/performers were engaged physically in singing. Among other things, they moved around, conducted themselves with their hands and arms, tapped their hands and feet in time to the rhythm of the music, and playfully interacted with each other.

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Katherine further noted that Ted used a lot of facial expressions, gestures, and movement in his humor.

She recalled an evening when Gertrude was wearing “extremely short shorts, and she had these thigh highs on with her shoes or whatever.” Katherine continued:

She was like, “Oh, I feel like a prostitute, or I’m dressed like a prostitute.” She was like, “I dress like this all the time. I guess I’m always looking like a prostitute,” and [Ted] was just looking at her like,

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s something I’d want to be admitting to.” His expressions and his message kind of come across more in his facial expressions and stuff.

On a number of occasions, there was a lot of physical activity in the auditorium. For example,

Bettie, Richard, and Lillian made jerky hip-hop moves, and engaged in facial and eye talk with each other, including winking and clicking sounds; others also joined them in conducting themselves with their hands, arms, and feet while rehearsing their singing.

At the third musical rehearsal, the stage manager, Peter, engaged in creative physical activity on stage. He performed a tour de force set of three turns that involved circling his arms and head overhead simultaneously. This connected set of movements ended in Peter pretending to mix a concoction of some kind with his hands and arms, and eventually plunging himself into a half back-bend while miming guzzling down the drink.

Ted engaged in giving lots of movement notes while side coaching. For example, with Luke and

John, he showed them how to shift their weight, move when needed, and move as directed. Bettie became stiff at the end of one scene. While she appeared to have rigor mortis, several males carried her off stage. This activity was repeated several times.

One evening, Shawn threw his legal pad on the floor, proclaiming, “That’s it! I’m out of paper.

No more notes.” Folks laughed. Yet another evening during a review rehearsal for Act I, an actress’s shoe flew off, and fell into the pit. Shawn retrieved the shoe, and threw it back up on the stage. The sum effect was amusing, especially since no one was hit with the shoe. Later Blake added hiccups to the

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physical business with his inebriated character and switched to using a flask rather than a wine/liquor bottle in a paper bag.

In a review rehearsal for Acts I and II, Richard started fooling around on stage doing high kicks and splits, and messing around with a surrogate animal on stage. Later in the evening during curtain call,

Richard did cheerleader type poses for the audience.

Touching Behaviors

Touching behaviors, also referred to as “tactile stimulation,” represented additional means of gaining information and learning. Touching behaviors occurred with one self, others, and/or objects within the surrounding environment. In this study, relational touching proved to try to generate intimacy and was executed individualistically with varying qualities.

Ted noted that, contrary to rules of socializing in our culture, actors/performers learn to touch each other for the sake of their work on stage. This is part of building intimacy in relationships. He also claimed that touching in rehearsals often extends to touching beyond rehearsals. He said, “It is part of being an actor, and part of what you do for a living. Yes, actors touch each other.” Again, he noted that touching is not wrong or sexual, it is just something actors/performers do. He said, “It is just the comfort zone that you have established with other actors and that comfort zone is not established in other kinds of departments.” Nathan and Cynthia, in forming their stage relationship, were required to engaged in frequent touching. They exhibited touching of the face, head, hands, and arms; this translated into a closeness naturally accentuated by intense eye contact.

Dramatizations

A dramatization is a method, form, or technique for communicating a story, event, feeling, or thought to others by using the heightened and vivid qualities of dramatic action and emotions. It may involve conflicts, which are the heart of dramatic action, and it may involve an actual staged play performance as a vehicle for conveying some message.

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At the end of auditions, Ted fell down in front of his table, indicating how exhausted he felt from enduring four hours worth of auditions. Those of us left in the room began to laugh, given we empathized with his amusing stunt. It indeed had been a long night.

When she was learning her blocking initially, Mattie would start to exit directly stage left, then suddenly catch herself, back up, circle Nathan, and then exit. When she caught herself forgetting her blocking, she would demonstrate her mistake dramatically by moving with larger than life actions. It was funny, and generated a lot of laughter among onlookers.

On the first day of blocking, Nathan had been directed to perform a move at the end of a song.

After various run-throughs, he still forgot to make the move. The third time he did this, he dove into a diatribe, flaying himself around as though he an epileptic. Another evening, one of the actresses engaged in a tantrum on stage that was so physically engaging and loud, it grabbed everyone’s attention, and sent them into raucous laughter.

Yet a couple of evenings later, Bettie performed a crying jag on stage that was amusing. It was amusing because she started out with a soft cry, but, after stopping to gasp for air, started up again with even more gusto. With each successive bout of crying, she grew more and more impassioned. Folks laughed heartily at her dramatization.

Choreography and Dance

Some choreography and dance was physical, and some was sexual. What follows are examples of physical choreography and dance. For example, during the choreography of a certain number, Ted noted to the performers that he wanted the ending to look “like Grand Central Station.” This meant that they were to run off stage as fast as possible in different directions at the same time by taking the longest possible route from where they were posed at the end of a certain musical number. However, Ted did not dictate how to manage this activity; he merely gave the direction. The initial result was bedlam from which a lot of giggling and laughing transpired. The sheer physicality of running fast without clear rights of passage resulted in a lot of energy and high spirits. Ted said to me, “This will work, but they’ll kill

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themselves twice. Nuclear physics would have been better. More breaks in that!.” Shawn said, “Call an ambulance!” Ted ended by saying such things as: “Now can you do it without giggling?” or “Okay, let’s do it again,” or “You giggled again.” At last, Ted called for a break. The laughing and giggling continued as actors exited the stage.

Another example involved Richard and Lillian. They were known to dance in the isles. One evening Richard was doing a jazz dance as Lillian did a musical theatre dance. When Ted began to dance as well, one of the students retorted, “It’s Cabaret all over again,” a show performed the previous spring.

Folks laughed. The physical activity was energizing.

After Labor Day, some folks were teasing Ted about getting revved up for his choreography. Ted was known for high-energy dance rehearsals. In response to this, he quickly jumped into a second modern dance position, and slowly started rolling his hips. Mitchell and the others laughed, while Shawn commented, “See what vacation does to you?” Ted looked alive, youthful, and energized. His petite stature was filled with a boyish glow. I noticed him doing balletic front-attitude positions in the center section of the house. These were in the number he was about to stage. He lifted his shirt, revealing his stomach, to clean his bifocals. He held his shirt up again on stage as he passed by the students, continuing to clean his glasses. His body was freer and more expressive physically than I had observed previously.

Ted stood on stage concentrating on his instructions, his head held back, his eyes closed, his back arched. Once he began, he noted that the front attitudes were not traveling, but to be performed with a hop in placed with the lower leg turned in, not squared off. He continued to dance with his arms in a second position jazz pose with free flowing, lyrical movement while simultaneously singing, “You light up my life, you give me joy . . . .”

During an Act II rehearsal, there was a good deal of dancing and physical activity. Richard, like a racehorse, could not wait to break out of the gate. At the top of the rehearsal, he was rehearsing his solos with exuberance and passion. Ted explained that his choreography would help Richard’s timing.

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Richard was off book for the first time, and proudly showing off this accomplishment. When he was done rehearsing his song, he struck a second position jazz pose with his feet and arms, bent into a deep plié, and decried, “Ha, cha, cha, cha, cha.” As Ted continued with rehearsal, he pulled his white, short- sleeved shirt out of his belt, again showing off his stomach. This segment of rehearsal was energized and focused.

Another evening, while waiting for Ted to question the lighting designer, Mattie did a series of back walk-overs on stage. Mitchell showed her how he planned to roll on the floor, while Mattie continued to perform a variety of dance moves, including scissors, bucket jumps, jazz and tap steps. Ted noted that Rue was to get more and more physical in a segment of a dance of hers; “Modern Dance

Improvisation III here,” he exclaimed.

Bettie reminded us that the crew and production staff engaged in physical activity back stage nightly. They continued to do so once the production was up and running as well. More is said about this within the final sub-category of rituals and superstitions in the fifth and final section of Chapter 3 dealing with what helped actors/performers cope with their stressors, tensions, and anxieties.

Amusing Physical Accidents

Constance recalled the performance when Blake, to the casts’ and crews’ surprise, fell off a stage platform accidentally, though the audience believed it was a staged event. This, therefore, was a funny and not so funny event. His character physically staggered and swaggered around on stage due to intoxication. Once night, while crossing from stage right to stage left across a long and narrow upstage platform, he finally plunged off the back of the platform, which people had worried would happen for weeks. Constance revealed that this was a funny event, but at the same time, she said, “I was really worried about him because I was like, ‘Oh, my gosh! I hope he’s okay.’ I had to go on stage. The whole time I was on stage, I was being . . . I must have looked really concerned about [Lillian] because I was concerned about [Blake].”

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As another example, Blake was trying out a new idea during a scene on stage in the first review rehearsal. He was feigning sneaking a stiff drink of wine or liquor from a bottle in a brown paper bag.

This was performed only when no one on stage was looking. Being the first time Blake had tried this idea, he found himself laughing after his first swig. This caused him to spew liquid all over the floor of the down stage right area, which had to be wiped up by Mitchell before anyone in the cast could continue.

Blake and several onlookers continued to laugh heartily as the area was cleaned up.

Sexual Humor

Background for sexual phenomena.

Katherine pointed out that there was a lot of sexual humor back stage and throughout the production. She said that Andrew and she talked about it a little bit. “It is interesting to kind of watch your age, and people are making a lot of sexual innuendos. There is a lot of that stuff,” she said, adding,

“[Andrew] was hypothesizing that some of that comes about because [Ted] lets some of that [take place].

[Ted] will make those off-color kinds of comments, which will fuel the fires and that flame a little bit among the people.”

Furthermore, Katherine described actors’/performers’ needs to engage in sexual play as “an energy thing.” She continued:

I think it could boost their confidence. It could be like getting rid of some of that extra

adrenaline. Like . . . the ballet teacher, her big thing is to hop like a bunny for five to ten minutes

before you go on stage just to get some of the strenuous energy out. Sometimes it takes people

five or ten minutes before they settle into being on stage or whatever. If they are doing stuff like

jumping around or whatever back stage, then sometimes that helps get their blood flowing or get

their circulation going. When they walk out on stage, they can just explode with it, and it’s not

going to take them a while to settle into what’s going on. I think that the sex stuff and the

copulating, I think that kind of takes that place. Plus it’s just the Theatre Department, and people

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are so sexually oriented about everything that people say anyway. I really don’t think that sexual

harassment cases could exist in theatre [based on what I’ve seen].

At the start of the second musical rehearsal, Richard was playing with toilet paper, pretending that it was a winter scarf that he had wrapped around his neck various times, and then proceeded to tear off bits of the creative scarf in order to blow his nose. When he began to dance around with the scarf,

Rue placed both her hands under her breasts and demonstratively gave them a boost while challenging

Richard with the power of her womanliness.

One evening after rehearsal, Lillian, Bettie, and Cynthia revealed that sex was often a key theme in the plays produced at this University. The year before, they had done the play Falsettos about AIDS patients and homosexuality. She later revealed that some audience members walked out of this show, and that the Department received letters from the community complaining about the show’s content.

However, according to Bettie, the Department chooses to be experimental in order to help students as well as patrons stretch in terms of informed tolerance. Shawn later referred to an outstanding musical he would like to direct, but this University would have to water down the language and sex, he noted.

Trait-like sexual humor.

In addition to Ted, who used sexual innuendos frequently, Ralph revealed that he views himself as having a sexual form of humor. He noted that his role was a lot like him because it involved humor with a sexual connotation. He said:

Sometimes I think I go where most people won’t go. Just when you think somebody is at the

line, sometimes I cross the line. As far as the character and his sexual innuendos, I think that we

are close because I am a sexual person as far as trying to be sexy and stuff like that. People are

concerned sometimes with the way they look. I am concerned with the way I look, but more if I

am sexually appealing. That someone finds me sexy is important to me. The fact that he was

very sexual, and he was very carnal [appealed to me].

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Ralph added that most theatre people use sexual humor. He noted, “Sometimes I think that my sense of humor is bad, and I have to stop being so gross and so silly. I am like, I am twenty-one years old, and I will grow out of it.” Ralph further added that he loved to be on stage, even if for a chorus role; he did not like being back stage during a show.

Another evening, rehearsal began with a lot of activity, including Richard and Lillian jazz and musical theatre dancing in the aisles of the auditorium. As Richard turned to face the house, Bettie said to him, “Stop playing with your nipples,” and both began to laugh. As she continued to suck on a lollipop,

Richard continued to play deliberately with his nipples. Richard, like Ralph, was highly sexual as well as physical.

Again, Hilda was a funny person who engaged in sexual humor often. Gertrude stated that

Hilda’s humor was particularly sexual, especially in the ladies’ dressing room. Katherine noted the same thing, but added that Hilda performed her sexual humor while waiting in the wings to go on stage, most probably because she had a lot of time on her hands and was bored. Both Gertrude and Katherine described Hilda’s humor as involving pretending to be a male and pretending to fornicate with other actors.

Choreography and dance.

Not all choreography and dance was sexual in nature, but much was. Some examples are noted below. For example, one night after running a dance number at high speed, Mitchell complained to Ted that perhaps the music was too fast, since he had “racked his balls against the wall” during the number.

Ted said that wall had been damaged twice before, and he wanted Mitchell to be careful. “Perhaps some professional lingerie is in order,” he quipped.

Later in the evening, Mattie did a big spender type of hip-hop move and ended with a tough gal pose. At one point, I zeroed in on John grabbing his crotch in a new age hip-hop fashion, lifting Lillian, and then doing or saying something to make her blush and laugh. He generally was observed smiling

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more, and finally doing high kicks. Later I observed John doing back kicks, forward hip thrusts, and a fig leaf pose.

Relational intimacy.

Cynthia further noted that she used some sex appeal when building her relationship with John.

“I’d tease him about stuff he did on stage, or he’d tease me, or he’d throw something. Some people might say that we flirted.” Cynthia also admitted that she did not like girls in general, and was more comfortable around men. In fact, she spent most of her time with the males, albeit gay males except for

John and Nathan. Each night before she went on stage, as part of a production ritual, she told Richard “to kiss her butt.”

There generally is greater latitude of acceptance in the theatre, including acceptance of sexual humor and intimacy. According to Katherine, many talked about the need for this kind of intimacy on stage through the development of off-stage relationships. In order to become vulnerable and comfortable with such intimacy, actors/performers relied on sexual humor as well as humor in general. Ted agreed that young actors/performers, in particular, engaged in an adolescent kind of humor. “Sometimes it is very sexually oriented,” he noted, adding “but it is also among friends.” He further explained:

The fact that actors need to wear how they feel and their emotions on their sleeves a lot [brings

out this sexual humor]. They work for truth, not for masking or covering it up. I don’t know that

there is a difference in the sexuality of actors, and the sexuality of the business school, but there is

a difference in saying it out loud. . . . [Actors] are more honest and up front. Business people

often tend to not say what is really in their heads, and actors are trained to say what is in their

hearts.

Sexual innuendos.

Another way in which relational intimacy was conveyed was through the use of sexual innuendos. For example, one evening, Ted asked actors to run the finale of Act I again. After doing so, he started to tease one of the females by singing his own rendition of “Here Comes Peter Cotton Tail.”

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He said, “[Here comes little Mattie] running down the bunny trail.” Folks laughed wide-eyed and surprised at the sexual innuendo conveyed in Ted’s analogy. Ted replied, “Listen Flopsy, Mopsy, and

Cotton Tail,” then the group ran the song and dance routine.

On the second day of blocking rehearsals, Ted noted to Nathan that he was staring at the wrong end of an animal on stage. “You’re to focus not at the prostate, but the head . . . .” They laughed at the implication that Nathan was being bestial. Later that same evening, Ted asked for an actor and actress to come to the stage for a duet. Mitchell picked up on this and mockingly announced, “We need little red and big black,” a sexual euphemism for the sex organs of a white female and a black male. Yet later

Richard followed up and began to sing, “There’s a giant between my thighs. There’s a long . . . giant between my thighs,” a song that eventually trailed off after folks stopped listening.

During the next rehearsal, the part-time assistant director said that Ted had asked him to make a note that he needed “to see all of [one of the actress’] body.” Folks started to laugh at the sexual implication, although he meant that the actress needed to turn more toward the audience. Ted responded,

“Private parts? Never mind. That’s how professors lose their jobs.” He then gave the next note immediately.

Various notes referred to content or behaviors of a sexual nature. For example, one evening during a review rehearsal of Act II, Ted reminded John to project his voice. “You’re using the Saturday night back seat voice,” Ted described. He also encouraged John to give stronger vocal punch to the line,

“I’m over you, baby!” Ted also gave various notes to John and Cynthia regarding a love scene they were in. One evening, he asked John to make a noise when Cynthia touched his chest paralleling one Cynthia made when he touched her. “That was in a book I read,” Ted added. “Moan when she touches your chest. Equal opportunity here,” Ted noted to John on yet another occasion.

Mocking sexuality.

Mocking sexuality was characterized by making fun of something or someone else on a sexual note. Mocking may have been executed in the form of a parody as well. For instance, one evening, the

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costumer brought a pair of boots to John to try on. After he tried them, it was apparent that they would not go on. John repeatedly slapped his calves, noting how hard it was to boot him because his calves were extra large. The costumer started to make fun of John’s gesture. “Well,” she mimicked him as she patted her respective body parts, “I have little boobs, and big hips, and a really big ass.” John basically ignored the costumer, and went on about his business. Sensing that she had caused him to disengage from her, she admitted to John that she had gone off on a tangent because he had slapped his legs so hard.

During the third day of blocking, Nathan and Cynthia kissed on stage for the first time at the end of a duet they sang. This elicited a lot of whoops and laughter from those looking on. Lillian said, “It was beautiful”; I concurred. Ted accentuated the moment by standing limply upstage right of the couple while moving nothing but his eyes between them and us. It was an amusing pose that Ted immediately relinquished as though nothing had happened.

Richard followed by trying to kiss the animal in the show on the mouth. Shawn jokingly asked

Lillian close by, “What if the [animal] asks for water?” Lillian implied that if that animal knew how to ask for water, they would all be in trouble. A metal chair was being used as an animal surrogate. Shawn banged out an imitation of the animal’s heartbeat on the piano.

This kissing theme continued nights later when two males, Nathan and Mitchell, were in a scene together in which Ted informed them that Mitchell was to die in Nathan’s arms. Folks began to laugh when they caught Mitchell trying to get one last kiss from Nathan before dying. Nathan was laughing as well, as he tried to fend off Mitchell.

After the eighth performance, the ensemble and others remained after rehearsal for a photo shoot.

The photography session started around 11:00 p.m. after the house cleared of people. While waiting for

Ted to announce the thirty-six or seven scenes that he had earmarked for photographing, actors playfully struck a variety of sexual poses. For example, lying on the floor facing upstage, Mattie curled her body in half, plunging her legs over her head and plowing her feet into the floor over her head. With her derriere exposed, Richard, a gay male, came up behind her and imitated fornicating with her. Hilda predictably

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imitated a guy with male genitalia. Others then joined the tableau, each with a sexual pose, as though they were forming an orgiastic still life. When Richard was engaging in sexual moves, and doing splits,

Ted told him to transfer to [Random University] while then singing “There’s a place for you, somewhere a place for you . . . .” This episode was a parody on the show as a whole.

Nudity.

Relational intimacy was fostered further by references to nudity. Another evening during the second blocking rehearsal, Ted said, “Can we all drop our pants now, and sing Cumbiah?” This was said as actors were called to the edge of the stage to sing warm-ups.

Cynthia chose not to dress with the women in the cast. She claimed that they were “very screechy and loud” and talked “such nonsense” that she could not hear her calls and cues. So after talking to various gay males, she assigned herself a space in the male dressing room. She dressed with the gay members. The heterosexual males dressed up front. She explained, “We’d all just sit back there, and they would all tease me about being back there with them and not looking at their packages. That was all fun.”

She continued, “They have all seen me. It wasn’t like they were seeing anything wonderfully important.

I was naked in front of them before. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen them in theatre.” Cynthia revealed that some people had an issue with the male dressing room being co-ed, but she claimed that she would not have been in there had the females not laughed so loud all the time.

During a choreographic rehearsal one evening, Ted turned to Shawn and Devin, lifted his shirt, and flashed his stomach. He did this various times. Shawn retorted, “I’ll take off my pants,” to which

Ted reacted by throwing a snarling face and glance toward me. Again, after giving some directions to the group, Ted turned and flapped his shirt.

At various times throughout the rehearsal process, comments were made that expressed something about the removal of one’s clothes. After the fifth blocking rehearsal, for example, Ted asked

Peter for any notes he might have. Anticipating his comment, folks joined in as Peter exclaimed,

“Everyone take your clothes off!” All laughed, while Richard decried, “It’s sick! Everyone makes the

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same jokes at the same time.” Shawn noted that this was part of show business. Mitchell chimed in,

“Yeah, everyone thinks alike.” All continued to banter, smile, and chuckle as they parted for the evening.

Homosexual humor.

Relational intimacy also was marked by the use of homosexual humor. Mattie noted that everyone in the Theatre Department was very open. She felt liked by everyone as well. There are norms that allow for physical and sexual humor. For example, she explained that gay males played around and teased her as follows. She said:

Me and most of the gay guys, they always mess around, they grab my butt, and it’s not a bit deal.

We have a game we play actually that’s stupid and funny. Sometimes I’ll just be walking down

the hallway, and somebody will pick me up, and throw me over his shoulder. It’s not like, “Oh,

my God! This is crazy.” I’m like, “Oh, here we go again!” It’s just crazy. You never know

what’s going to happen. In the Theatre Department it’s fine if I sit in class and sing something

out loud. Everybody starts singing along with me when I’m in a theatre class. It’s fine.

Ted indicated to Ralph, a gay male, that “shaking his boodie” to the audience at the end of the

Act II finale probably was not exactly what they wanted. Richard, also a gay male, imitated Ralph by

“shaking his boodie” another evening at the end of the same number, adding something verbal for the whole group as well that was homosexual in nature, but I could not catch it fully. Ted said nothing.

One evening during a stagger-through rehearsal, Shawn made a gulping and squeezing sound effect on the piano. Bettie commented that these sound effects sounded “like music for being gay.” Ralph, a gay male, laughed with gusto from the middle of the second row in the center section of the house. Others laughed less heartily.

Another evening during the technical rehearsal, Ralph, Mattie, and Hilda were creating something that looked like a penis or a tail. The technical folks next to me exclaimed that it was “Harpo’s gag.”

They chuckled, while the actors continued to joke around and cut up with their newly created artifact or work of art. Finally, when I observed back stage one night, Hilda persisted in standing behind John and

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pretending to copulate with him, while Richard went to his knees in front of John and pretended to have oral sex with him. I said to John, “Ah, what is it? She’s a transvestite?” He replied, “Definitely!” All were laughing at themselves.

Females imitating males.

Gertrude noted that the humor in the females’ dressing room became sexual. As the eleven females in the show prepared their makeup, hair, and costumes nightly, their goal reportedly was to keep the humor flowing. By all accounts, the humor was predominantly, if not exclusively, sexual in nature.

According to Gertrude, “[Hilda] ran around talking about [sex] non-stop in the dressing room, so it was always funny in there.” Gertrude described Hilda’s actions as follows:

She would pretend she was an old woman. She’d run around, actually she sang, I am going to

have to sing it for you: she’d go, “Did [he] really kiss me, and kiss me, and kiss me, and did he

touch my sack?” She ran around saying that so much. She’d say, “I’ve got [some magic] for

you,” and she’d come up, and. . . . She’s funny. She kept the humor alive. I mean when a lot of

other people lost it, there were some people that seemed like they just always had it. She was one

of them.

Hilda was found imitating a male with a penis at many junctures during the rehearsal and performance stages. For example, one evening during a review rehearsal of Act I, she was sitting in the wings cutting up with the stage managers, nonverbally miming a guy showing his penis. Mattie looked on while pretending to smoke a cigarette using her pen.

Males Imitating Females.

Mitchell was notorious for striking a female vixen pose against the wall of the down stage right cubby. As early as the first blocking session, he would slink in and out of the cubby, posing periodically while leaning against the wall with both arms high and one knee bent. This generated a lot of laughter from performers in the audience. Eventually it attracted Ted’s attention, and Ted responded with “I see

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[your character] as Allister Cook, not Ertha Kitt”; after repeating himself once, Mitchell resigned to saying, “I know.”

Later Richard joined Mitchell in sticking his head out of the cubby, imitating Mitchell. Folks laughed. Mitchell got down on the floor, and stuck out his head. All laughed. Richard proceeded to sing rap music and engage in hip-hop moves. The next evening, Blake posed and vamped against the wall down stage right in a manner that imitated Mitchell’s earlier moves. Another evening on his way to the stage, Ted stopped off at the down stage right area where Mitchell and others had been vamping, and, with a big smile directed toward Constance and me, imitated Mitchell’s pose. We smiled and laughed in response.

Verbal Humor

Puns

A pun is a play on words such that two words are formed or sounded alike, but have different meanings. Various examples follow. During the first day of musical rehearsals, Shawn, the musical director, said: “Welcome to [the world of] words. This is a very wordy show.” As another example,

Richard was singing the next evening “It’s your fart” in lieu of “It’s your fault”; Ted corrected him that it was “your” not “yer” to indicate the base nature of his pun. Another time, Shawn said, “You don’t want to gargle with olive oil, and then swallow the olive, like someone I knew did.”. Furthermore, Shawn made the remark one night, “Okay, all your clothes fall down, and on we go,” a pun, given Lillian’s clothes literally were supposed be thrown down to her to change, but the implication was that the clothes she was wearing were going to fall down. Lillian appropriately responded with “Wow!”

Yet another evening, as Richard would do, he was singing, “someone in a wheelchair”—a play on words from the line of “someone with bouffant hair.” Richard later sang “what’s happenin’ in the ghetto” in lieu of “what’s going on with that fellow,” adding hip-hop moves to the agenda.

During the second blocking rehearsal, Ted noted after a run-through of a dance number, “The shortest distance between two points is a curved line, not a straight one. I didn’t take math as part of my

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liberal arts, I took calculus [so I should know how to calculate].” He then noted that his pun using the words calculus and calculate meant he could calculate the shortest distance between two points.

Ironically, it was a false calculation, but a sophisticated pun.

Other examples of puns were present. For example, everyone was standing down stage attentively in a straight line one evening, when I became amused. I said, “Oh, it’s a chorus line,” meaning the line up paralleled the musical production by the same name, A Chorus Line. Folks laughed. Ted added that actors should be happy, especially when Gertrude’s character thinks she can be “Queen for a

Day”; this also is a pun, given Gertrude indeed does aspire to be royalty. Finally, in introducing someone new to the group, Ted asked everyone to welcome this person, and, in essence, to draw her into their giant breast. This pun referred to a giant in the production. Richard replied right away, “Hey, that was my line,” which indicated his undoubted approval of the pun as clever and quick.

Bettie referred to Ted’s shows as possessing “the curse of the conga,” meaning that people always seemed to get sick with colds in his shows. This expression made reference to Ted’s last name, hence creating the kind of play on words characteristic of puns.

Analogies, Similes, Metaphors

An analogy is a comparison of two things in terms of how they are similar to one another. A simile is a figure of speech that compares two things using the words like or as, and a metaphor, also a figure of speech, involves an implied comparison wherein a word or phrase used for one thing is applied to another.

During the first musical rehearsal, the musical director, Shawn, explained that the musical term

“Ten.” stood for tenuto which means “stuck in the mud.” He continued, “That’s easy to do around here, given the parking [reconstruction] situation.” Folks laughed and nodded yes to this analogy. Later that same evening, Shawn said metaphorically, “Whenever you have this pattern, you cannot become sing- songy. You’re not a robot.” Using metaphor again, Ted later asked Shawn if he was ready to carry on with his rehearsal. “I’m ready. I’m a slave driver,” Shawn retorted; “Yes, masser,” someone asserted.

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Ted noted during the first musical rehearsal that actors should come to meet with him about their characters to be sure they were on the same page. Using a simile, for example, he noted, “You might think your character should be played like John Wayne in high heels, and I might think your character is something else.” Ted explained to John that he would like him to be a little more perplexing, using some inner monologue such as the following. “It’s like, ‘I can’t believe I’m always behind so many steps.

Why isn’t she falling around my feet? It’s unbelievable.’ This is my idea of the song, anyway,” Ted noted.

Shawn said later, “This music is on a punch card system; you punch in and punch out your lines.”

He then described his day: “It’s a four-coffee day, what can I say.” At the same session, Lillian walked around like a foot soldier, and Richard acted like a hip-hop singer. In addition, Shawn likened himself to

“an insane professor.”

Ted wanted to know why everybody was rushing through the music during the second musical rehearsal. He said, “It’s as though you are rushing to get home before midnight, as in the Cinderella story.” Shawn referred to it as “a train going down hill.” Ted referred to an actress as follows: “She’s too precious. . . . Oh, it’s like she doesn’t want to get dirty.” Ted referred to the role he gave the actress who refused to accept it as a “gift.” He later referred to his blocking as a “skeleton.” Ted furthermore noted during his first blocking rehearsal that he did not want people simply sitting “like a bump on a pickle” while waiting to be called to the stage, unless directed otherwise. Finally, Ted repeatedly directed characters “to flutter in as the little birds that they are.”

One of many nights, Ted repeated what he said numerous evenings, “Folks, as we are prone to do, let’s gather at the river and sing.” This was a figurative analogy referring to churchgoers, perhaps

Baptists, who gather by the river to sing songs of praise for baptisms performed at waters edge. A secondary meaning may involve diving in or becoming immersed in one’s work. Finally, a third meaning was perhaps merely to relax and enjoy the camaraderie.

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As has been noted elsewhere, Ted also used the analogy of Peter Cotton Tail, the bunny trail, and

Flopsy and Mopsy. This theme was illustrated in a later rehearsal when Ted said, “Let’s take it from where Mama comes hopin’ down the bunny trail,” and “ Let’s take it from where Maria and Luke come down the bunny trial.”

The Act I finale was to look like “Grand Central Station” at the end, according to Ted. For another number, Ted referred to it as his “eighth grade half-time show.” Ted wanted people to pull energy into a song, but also to be earnest; he said, “It’s like ‘Give me liberty, or give me death.’”

Ted referred to older folks as “osteoporosis people” one evening. This same evening, Ted noted that he wanted actors/performers to explode in and out of scenes in the musical, adding, “I admit that you don’t find it in Arthur Miller plays, unless they were to make a musical out of one, but in modern dance, this is called ‘pulsing in and pulsing out.’”

The next evening, Ted noted that he wanted everyone to hold onto their hats because it was

“going to be a bumpy ride” that night. He also asked Maria to cry him a river. Ted criticized actors/performers for still being on book by calling their actions a phenomenon of the University’s

“Reader’s Theatre Organization.”

Another evening, Ted noted that Bettie was bending over too much. He asked her to stand up straight when she gave her lines so as not to inhibit her air flow. Then she could plie or bend. He referred to her as moving “like the ducks whose heads bob in the water.”

Ted asked actors to pick up the blood and body parts on stage after a certain scene. To drive home his point, he said, “Don’t leave like some Edgar Allan Poe story.;” On the literary theme again,

Ted wanted an actor’s face to be seen, even though it was covered in blood. He said, “We can’t see the

Oedipus moment now.”

Stories

Stories are a series of real or fictitious events told verbally with the purpose of informing or entertaining. Most stories told in this production were about oneself, and therefore may be thought of as

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forms of self-disclosure. Self-disclosure involves revealing information about oneself, including biographical data, personal ideas and feelings, and personal events.

On the first day of musical rehearsals, Shawn noted that it was important for the singers to get and stay in shape. To make his point, he grabbed actors’ attention with, “It’s story time with [Shawn].”

He then proceeded to tell them a story about a time in his life when he was babysitting for a living. One day he stated that he had three children in a stroller when he decided to jog five blocks to get something from a store. He started out with gusto, but made it to only the third house down the street. The ensemble laughed. He explained that being in shape does not come naturally. They would have to work out physically on a regular basis to end up at the level of fitness that they wanted and needed to be a performer. “You can’t just expect it to be there,” he said. He emphasized not waiting until right before a show to get in shape, but stressed taking ongoing steps to stay in shape physically and vocally.

Shawn also shared various stories about his children throughout the production. These have been described at various points within this Chapter. For example, Shawn made fun of his lack of physical activity in a humorous way. One evening he said, “I sit for a living.” Everything he did—play the piano, sing parts, demonstrate what to do, take and give notes—all were done from a seated position. At one point the next evening when Ted was ready to call actors to the stage to move on with his blocking, he announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, right in front of the conductor’s head.” Shawn waved, blew kisses, and eventually threw kisses. Folks laughed. Another night, Shawn noted that his hands get exercised all the time. In fact, he noted that his hands are all muscle since he rehearses nine hours a day. On a serious note, the only thing that bothered him was his neck, so to help himself, he tried using the Alexander

Technique for physical alignment and a chair with a back on it. He also noted that on vacation at the beach one year, he was holding his child in the water by his fingertips in order to be gentle. This caused soreness under his arms that he later had to work out with special exercises. He became aware that he did not utilize these muscles regularly. But the fact that Shawn could hold his child with his fingertips demonstrated how strong his hands were.

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In addition, one day Mitchell revealed that Rue had locked her keys in her car with the car running, thus she would be late to rehearsal. Mitchell and I told stories about similar experiences, and

Shawn revealed how he had opened his car with a tomato stake once, but then got wet the next week when he took his car through a car wash. All chuckled.

Ted noted to me as we walked to the parking lot one evening that he was invited to a lot of weddings for former students. There was one coming up, in fact, he noted. “That’s another cheese board,” he extolled, and we laughed. He confirmed that he hits the outlet malls to stock up on items like this every chance he gets.

At a restaurant and bar with actors/performers after rehearsal one night, I heard stories about

Bettie’s, Lillian’s, and Cynthia’s boyfriends, about past and present productions at the University, about directors in the Department, and about shows currently running on Broadway. One story was particularly dark. As Lillian reported, there was an African American male on campus who liked to joke about black people, including himself. For example, he made fun of blacks in Cincinnati, even though the racial riots in Cincinnati had recently transpired. He would kid that people should not go to Cincinnati because, as he would nervously indicate, there are blacks living there. In addition, Bettie pointed out that there was a new sculpture on campus featuring a black male. Lillian asserted that their African-American friend would refer to this statue as a “nigger in a cage statue.” They thought the way this male friend of theirs handled these incidences was amusing. To be amusing, Lillian and Bettie also told me about an eighty- year old man who was taking theatre classes in their Department, reportedly because he said it kept him young.

Peter and Katherine told me that the surrogate baby in rehearsals had body odor. I asked why.

Katherine explained that the baby was wrapped in the towel that Peter had used to dry off with after his physical workout routine. We laughed about the baby having B.O.

The box office manager, a small, middle-aged, friendly but tough woman, told some of us a story about two students who attended a performance one evening and refused to sit down. They wanted to

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stand in the back of the house. When she asked them to sit, one reportedly back talked her, noting that he did not have to and she could not make him. She clearly informed him that she could make him because

(a) she was the box office manager, and (b) if he refused to sit down, she could and would have him escorted out of the theatre. The student’s friend said, “I told you so.” The manager left, came back, and, again, found the students standing where they had been. This time, the box office manager told the problematic gentleman, “I mean it. Sit your butt down in a seat!” Again, the companion said, “I told you so.” Finally, the two sat down. We laughed about how ridiculous the encounter was, and how the manager had handled the situation professionally.

Moreover, fearing that Blake was going to fall off an upstage platform due to acting inebriated,

Ted told me a story of a nine-year old boy who had fallen off a similar upstage platform once years before. Ted disclosed that he had choreographed the boy to do a cartwheel on a similar ramp. One night the feared event became a reality when the child fell during a performance. Ted knew at the time that there were no soft things behind the ramp to fall on; on the contrary, he knew that there were hard things back there. So he rushed back stage only to find the boy lying on the floor, his head right next to a cinder block. Ted rolled his eyes. He asked the boy, “Are you all right?” The boy, still lying on the floor, reportedly looked up and said, “I didn’t make a noise.” After that, Ted said he no longer allowed hard things to remain laying around the set. Ironically, Blake did fall off the upstage platform during a performance one night, but was unhurt.

Finally, during my interviews with participants, I heard a host of stories about events that transpired on stage, off stage, and back stage throughout the run of the production as well as personal narratives about how each member got involved in the theatre. However, these stories either are not applicable to this study or are dispersed throughout this Chapter. Suffice it to say that through the self- disclosure of participants, I was able to glean a wealth of information useful in this study, though most of it will not be repeated here.

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Onomatopoeia, Humorous or Jocular Expressions, and Exaggerations

Several definitions of types of verbal humor are fitting first. Onomatopoeia is a figure of speech within which a word is created and used to sound like the thing it is associated with, such as tinkle, buzz, or crash. Humorous connotes doing or saying something in a whimsical, deliberately comical, or amusing way. Jocular implies a happy or playful manner of communication designed to amuse others.

Finally, a hyperbole is a figure of speech that uses exaggeration for effect; however, a hyperbole is to be taken figuratively rather than literally.

First, numerous word plays were used throughout the production process. Earlier Ted had referred to a song as “the tinkle-tinkle music,” an example of onomatopoeia to refer to the music’s high- pitched, melodious quality, yet an understatement since the music is highly sophisticated. Another example of onomatopoeia occurred one evening in response to Shawn’s feedback that the ensemble was singing so fast that it sounded like a train going down hill. Richard added, “Crash! Crack! Crunch!”

Closely related to onomatopoeia were various sounds generated by participants for effect. For example, the musical director, Shawn, explained to me, “This is the hardest music. . . . I haven’t been here long, but this is the hardest yet. All I have to say is, ‘Arrrrrrgh!” Another evening Ted made a silly sound to express his jocular mood, and then turned to Peter and said, “That has dignity and authority.

Don’t argue with me.”

In correcting pronunciation, Ted humorously explained to Bettie that the word was “was” rather than “wuz,” adding jokingly, “fuzzy-wuzzy was a bear.” Lillian performed a bit of stage business that was timed perfectly one evening. To express his elation humorously, Ted exclaimed, “Hurt. Kill. Hurt.

Kill. I loved it!”

Another evening, as a euphemism for fatigue, Ted said figuratively, “It’s Friday, and my butt’s draggin.’” Maria recognized Cynthia’s laugh that same evening by saying, “I will never miss that laugh of yours. I’ll be ninety years old, and remember that.” They chuckled at this light amusement, which was a compliment rather than a disparagement.

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When Ted could not remember John’s name during an Act II rehearsal, he called out amusingly,

“Number 41! Number 41! What’s his name?” “[John.] [John.],” a couple of folks called out. Number

41 was John’s audition number, Ted recalled. All laughed at this jocular, humorous moment.

Ted liked to use clever, amusing, jocular expressions. For example, various times, Ted would refer to Shawn as “Mr. Maestro Man.” Ted further referred to a section of one of the most active dance numbers in the show as the “shake, rattle, and roll sequence.” In addition, Ted urged everyone one evening to give more energy by highlighting a hypothetical billboard sign that would read, “Energy and

Acting Commitment, Please.”

Another amusement occurred when some of us discovered Rue wearing Halloween socks with colorful icons on them. We laughed at the idea of such a frivolous, fun gesture. Rue milked the moment for all she could while showing off her socks.

Exaggeration or hyperbole was another type of stylized verbal humor that occurred periodically during this production. Examples are dispersed throughout this chapter as well. Again, several examples follow. For one, Ted indicated that when the still living composer of this show dies, people would want to dissect his brain. During the last musical rehearsal, Ted remarked to me that he had only tenors in this show, no baritones. He then added, to account for the rarity, that the United States was yet to produce another base. He clarified that such voices were hard to find due the ages of the actors/performers. Later

Ted noted that they would have to get a character on stage quickly. He said, “I don’t think we will fly you through the fly system. But that is up to [the technicians].”

Ted further reminded the groups during the first blocking rehearsal, “You’re not going to win

Oscars tonight.” Stressing that he wanted everyone on stage, Ted yelled out, “Ah! Come on! Everyone on stage and their brother.” Richard replied, “I have a brother, but he’s not here.” Regarding a character,

Ted noted one night, “Yea. She hasn’t stopped crying since 1956.” When Ted introduced Peter to the crew, he told them, “[Peter] is in charge, and so you should ask him how many times he would like you to do something, how high, how many times, twice.” Finally, Rue asked for glow tape on the back ramp

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and crossover space. Peter assured her that they would do this, adding that they were willing to glow tape everything and anything, anything at all. Folks laughed.

Another evening, Lillian kidded about how sore her derriere was from exercises in her ballet class earlier that day. When asked what specifically was sore, she replied, “Everything!” I started to share a similar experience, but she was called to the stage.

In introducing me to the assistant director, Ted noted, “This is Patty. I used to be married to her.

She had all of my children, and is now raising them. She needs to tell you very personal things about me.” I played along so we could chuckle at the exaggerated fantasy.

Mimicry and Understatement

Imitation or mimicry constituted other broad based forms of humor employed by participants in this production. Imitation implies modeling something, although not necessarily in an exact manner, whereas mimicry suggests a close imitation designed to ridicule in a joking manner. Actors mimicked many kinds of icons and public personalities, such as hip-hop dancers, Frankenstein, sex sirens, males or females, and so on. These examples are dispersed throughout this Chapter. Without repeating them here, one additional example is provided. Another evening, Ted made fun of actors waiting to begin a number.

He imitated them bouncing to the music until the last chord prior to the start of the song. Performers laughed. He then added, “It’s the on-stage look of, ‘Notice, I have been choreographed.’”

When it came to developing characters for the stage, however, Ted cautioned actors/performers.

Below is an example of Ted’s philosophy about imitation of stage characters. At the end of the last musical rehearsal, Ted said to the ensemble:

Okay. This gives you an idea of what to expect. Musical theatre singing is more individualistic,

less like a chorus. Make it your own, whatever your character is. Don’t watch it. You don’t

want to imitate someone’s version of your role. Do it your way. It will be more believable and

truthful. If you imitate, your acting will have a flaw in it. It won’t be genuine. Make it yours,

not what someone else made it.

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An understatement is a weaker or restrained statement than the truth warrants, often employing irony as a stylistic devise. Only Ted, the artistic director, used this form of humor. For example, on the second night of blocking, Ted asked, “Want to try singing through this little ditty?” “Little ditty” was an understatement, posing a bit of irony, given the song that was about to be sung was actually quite complicated rather than short and simple as the word ditty would suggest. Earlier Ted had referred to a song as “the tinkle-tinkle music.” This uses onomatopoeia, but again is an understatement, given the sophistication of the music.

Wit, Sarcasm, and Disparaging Humor

Overall disparaging humor is humor designed to put others down, to discredit, to detract from, and/or to lower one’s esteem. This may involve disparagement of self or others. People used such humor in varying ways. In addition, various other forms of humor, less positive in nature, are covered in this section. For example, wit implies an ability to make sharp, clever comments in an amusing way. This is typically performed in a spontaneous manner, perhaps in quick repartee with others. It points up incongruities, and may use sarcasm. Jocose suggests a mildly mischievous quality in joking, sometimes to the point of being facetious, meaning derogatory or in bad taste. Finally, “to mock” suggests imitation to deride or affront.

Sarcasm implies making cutting, taunting, or caustic remarks, generally ironical. Satire attempts to expose the vices, foibles, and follies of others through the use of ridicule and sarcasm. A parody is a poor or weak imitation of a musical or literacy work treated in a nonsensical, often ridiculing or sarcastic, manner.

Actors would stop and ask Shawn a musical question, and if he was uncertain of the answer, he would respond with wit, “Why, I don’t know. I’m not [Mozart].” He once satirized himself saying,

“That’s why I do musicals. It’s my form of exercise. Wait till you see me conducting.” Shawn made a witty and satirical gesture to an actress who inquired about her character during the last musical rehearsal,

“Don’t you know that all the characters are the same. . . . They just have different costumes. Haven’t you

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figured that out yet?” This was an understatement, using irony and satire to poke fun of actors/performers who ask a lot of questions because they are overly concerned with intellectualizing their characters.

Coming back off of break during the first blocking rehearsal, Ted pointed out that he did not want anyone falling into the pit. “The pit is off limits,” he said, claiming that violins are very fragile and expensive, and they do not heal; “You heal, but they do not.” This posed an incongruous response to the potential of humans in the show to fall into the pit and be hurt. Because he expressed more concern for the violins that human life, it was amusing. Ted repeated this comment at least one other time when he asked everyone to not come within eighteen inches of the edge of the stage because he wanted everyone to be safe from falling into the pit. “I don’t want any violins damaged,” he proclaimed.

Ted also clarified during an Act II rehearsal that someone somewhere was conducting some stem- cell research in order to create an animal for the show. It would be with them shortly. This was a sarcastic remark, albeit a hyperbolic one, alluding to how long it was taking to secure the animal for the show.

Ted asked me one evening during a review rehearsal of Act I what I was writing. I replied that I was writing about everything I could. He amusingly demanded that I tell him what I was writing about him. He then jokingly told me I was not allowed to, and that he could sue me. This was a witty and jocose remark.

Ted made a couple of other sarcastic remarks. In asking Cynthia to be more dramatic with her lines, Ted warned that he was about to ask her to do something they ask you never to do in Acting II. He further cautioned Lillian to let the last note of one of her songs swell, but he added, “Don’t make a career of it unless you do something with it.”

Ted asked Peter to add a bag of leaves back stage for a love scene, so that it would look like the two lovers had been rolling around on the ground. “I’d use hay, but I don’t think that would fit,” he added. Ted did not really intend for Peter to do this, which was understood at the time. It was a witty suggestion at which folks laughed.

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During his first blocking rehearsal, Ted sang what he wanted in one of Lillian’s songs,

“Ahhhhhh.” It sounded like a horse. A heavy silence fell over the room. Sensing their disapproval of his mockery, he responded, “That is the voice of the century. I just want you to know that.” Later Ted made fun of Cynthia’s character’s intelligence by jokingly saying, “We ain’t got no bread,” instead of her actual line “We don’t have any bread.”

During the first blocking rehearsal, Ted explained to the group that the way this show was written the scenes were like French scenes. “Well, not quite. But they’re like French scenes. But this is an antique way to stage a show. . . . It’s a snotty way to stage the show.” Most did not give much homage to his remarks, but a couple of actors snickered.

In disparaging self and others one evening due to the repetition of a dance number, Ted said, “I know it’s kind of boring, but it’s getting better. One more time, and then I’m going to go jump off a building.” Ted also noted the same evening, “Why do I always have to remember their blocking, and they don’t.”

During the first blocking rehearsal, Ted used self-deprecating humor again. He said to me, “This is the dumbest way to make a living.” He also told me that you have to know what you are doing to both block and choreograph. “It’s not because I am talented or anything I don’t think, it’s just that I’m older than dirt, and I have been doing it forever.” I think to myself that it must be talent too. He said the second night of blocking rehearsals, “I’ve changed this [blocking] two times myself thus far. I’m confusing myself.”

Shawn noted to Ted during the first blocking rehearsal that he was sorry, but Ted would have “to look at his butt all night on stage.” They laughed, and Ted used the opportunity to correct Lillian’s position on stage. Speaking of butts, he noted that she had been showing her butt to the audience when she performed a certain action, and he would prefer she angle more upstage to show part of her face to the audience.

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Cynthia saw one of the actors reading a book in Russian one evening, and questioned, “How are you going to learn English with that.” They had some words, and Stacey finally walked off. The actor,

Blake, remained smiling as he sarcastically replied, “It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

During the third blocking rehearsal, Ted told Luke that he should overpower John. He said, “It’s as if he’d been doing this to you your whole life, the little twerp. He’s like a mosquito.” This example encouraged disparaging thinking in relation to a character, plus it used an analogy and simile. Later discussion surfaced regarding whether a weapon in the show would be a [club] or a cattle prod. Ted said,

“If it’s a freshman, it’s a cattle prod. I haven’t decided yet.” Later that evening, Richard and Mitchell watched Rue run around with a surrogate [club] or cattle prod, laughing and cutting up with each other.

A number of actors sang short segments for an actress whenever she was absent from the stage, but used parody to do so. Ted referred to their renditions of her short parts as “a bad opera.” Ted said one night that his assistant director would be taking notes for him, and added sarcastically, “I don’t work.

Okay?” Ted criticized Mitchell’s characterization by pointing out that he was playing the character more like a Shakespearean puck than a traditional villain. Later still Ted pointed out that Flo, Stella, and

Gertrude needed to make longer, fuller gestures, not necessarily more gestures. He exaggerated, “Your gestures are only 1.8-second gestures. I timed them.” He is kidding, of course. Ted also noted that he wanted folks to refrain from singing or acting like “a Methodist choir.” Folks laughed, as he imitated a choir pose and a singing voice to match his image.

Shawn touched Luke one evening to get his attention, and made a comment about his gestures looking like an air traffic runway, to which Luke vehemently replied, “Don’t touch me!” Again, this example involves disparaging humor using an analogy. Later the next evening, Ted made a comment about someone’s hair being taken away, and then retorted, “Like me, you don’t have it no matter where you go.”

When Luke was late coming to rehearsal one night, Ted said to Peter, “Call him, and ask if he’ll condescend to come to rehearsal.” When Luke arrived, Ted announced to everyone, “[Luke]! I’m going

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to kill [Luke] now.” That same evening, Ted admonished the actors/performers on a dance number with,

“Guys! You’re playing ball like the [Bengal’s]! Come on! Something you never do.”

Ted joked that they would repeat a number after break. But for now they were on break. He said,

“We’ll repeat it. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and the rest of your grubby people.” One evening during a choreographic rehearsal, Ted asked the ensemble to turn and look in a certain direction. He asked Flo and Stella to look this way too, but they failed to comply. Ted was a little perturbed. But the ladies responded, “We were thinking, we are blind, so we couldn’t see anyway. . .”. Some of us were tearing, this was so amusing, but of course it came at the height of an already rambunctious course of dancing events.

Ted complained about a lack of energy a lot. One evening, he asserted, “I see you, and if you are dull, caucaw, poo-poo, blah.” Another night, Ted admonished John, “poo-poo, caucaw, bad,” for a line he delivered. Yet another evening, Ted asked everyone to share scenes with one another, and added, “Do it or you will die.”

Another evening, Ted gave the following direction: “Let’s walk it, and talk it, and crawl on your belly like a reptile.” Yet later that same evening, Ted added, “I’ll be a very nice person on Saturday, but not before. . . .”; after asking for notes from Devin, who had none, Ted shouted, “Then get the fool out of here.” The next evening, Ted asked Richard not to cover his face, because, he said, “I paid for that ugly mug.” Later Ted admitted, “You are the ingredients, and after Friday, I’ll have a cake, and then I can eat it. But until then, I apologize for being cranky, irritable, and grumpy. I’ll be a nicer man, calmer, even generous after that.”

Ted referred to a mistake he had made in some stage business between two actors one evening as

“just stupid [Ted] stuff.” He then proceeded to change his stage business, adding, “I think this will be much better.”

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Ted was very dressed up on opening night in a suit. He noted, after I complimented him, that his nice dress was “the other him, his brother.” This was not him. He was “the guy in rehearsals,” he assured me, and this was “his twin.” I laughed.

Someone wrote on a large, white sign-in chart made of poster board taped to a wall outside the dressing rooms that a certain person on the chart was “a mentally ill pig.” Mattie saw this after I did, and immediately took a marker, blackened out the cruel words, drew a flower and turned the arrow into a stem with leaves. She expressed anger at the person or persons who would have done something as

“mean-spirited” as this. Hilda and a female member of the crew were standing with us as disappointed as we were in such an action.

Lillian and Bettie, who were friends outside of rehearsals as well as friends with Nathan, played a kind of game with him that disparaged a part of him they found amusing, the part of him that his naïve and gullible, yet nonetheless friendly. Their intention was to keep Nathan from becoming overly focused on his role work. Lillian said, “[Nathan] will get so much in the moment that he has no idea what’s going on.” Instead, his two friends would distract him with something verbal or physical, and then watch him jump in and out of character. Nathan never apparently understood that his friends were making fun of him. Lillian admitted, “It makes me laugh, cause we shouldn’t do it, cause it’s really, really unprofessional, but he never catches on, so it doesn’t bother us.”

Richard experienced disparaging humor from others about his own sense of humor and the way he worked on his role. He said that he heard them call him an “overachiever,” which upset him because how he worked was how he worked, and he did not appreciate people making fun of his method. Richard revealed:

If that’s how you function, great, but don’t turn around and then belittle the way I work. Because

that’s the way I work, you know, and then you say something, and everybody’s like ‘Oh I was

kidding, I was kidding.’ You know? If that’s their kind of humor, then that’s fine.

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As Andrew pointed out, headset humor was a special type of disparaging humor, not to mention potentially dangerous to the show. This was humorous talk that stage managers and crew engage in on their headset communication systems. In addition to calling and coordinating cues and keeping lines open for emergencies, these folks would make fun of anything going on in their immediate environment that was amusing, but in particular they would make fun of actors/performers since they reaped most of the production’s glory anyway.

Dangerous Humor

Dangerous humor is humor that runs the risk of causing injuring to self, another, or something. It is mischievous to the point of involving risk(s). Repercussions may be mild, involving, for example, getting in trouble with the directors, or they may involve costly consequences dealing with money, credibility, or quality. Dangerous humor may be verbal and/or physical in nature or both.

Lillian noted during the second musical rehearsal that she found a song strange. Shawn agreed, and added that he was going to make an executive decision to add the word “the” to a line in the song.

“I’ll take the rap if we’re fined,” he bravely asserted, and folks laughed at the potential of getting in trouble over one word. One can incur problems with publishers and playwrights regarding royalties, but this fear was overstated. Later a menacing antagonist in the play asked me what there was to protect me in my work with them. Shawn alerted me to pay attention to who was asking me that question. All laughed.

Bettie indicated to me that pranks were not tolerated within this Department. “This school is actually good about not playing practical jokes and things on people. I’m use to a lot of that, but people get mad here.” She contended that, although this Department found pranks or practical jokes unprofessional, she was aware of actors engaging in similar behaviors on Broadway. She cited a friend who was in a show wherein they played a game called “bowling for Barbie,” the objective of which was to see how many Barbie’s they could knock down nightly by snapping back a hose of some kind that

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would project and hit the dolls. Not exactly a prank, but what was associated with such topics in this actress’s mind.

Although the audience could have seen this, Bettie also reported that she joined a group of crew nightly during performances to dance behind one of the set pieces in the show, nevertheless. She said,

“We had our little pre-show dance behind [one of the set pieces] before we went on every night.” Their verbal fun was in the form of graffiti on the backs set pieces.

Additionally, Bettie noted that the costumer and her assistant had performed a dance in the wings stage right nightly that imitated or parodied the ensemble songs and dances on stage at the end of each

Act. However, she referred to these acts as “a different story because a lot of people had problems . . . because they really weren’t supposed to be back there.” Plus both females danced in a dangerous environment—dangerous because of cables and wires, rigging, actors entering and exiting routinely from the area, and curtains and sightlines potentially being disturbed by the movement.

Headset humor could be dangerous as well as it was disparaging in that technicians who relied on their cue calls from this walkie-talkie system might have missed their cues. It also was possible that an emergency might be missed due to production staff and crew occupying the airwaves with humorous banter.

Ralph noted that his character portrayed a menacing, dangerous kind of humor. Tapping into himself in order to play this role brought out such humorous tendencies, and caused him to dare others to do a dangerously mischievous deed now and again as well as scare others.

Musical Underscoring

Musical underscoring means that music was added to aspects of the show or to humorous dialogue or actions in order to accentuate comic effects. Shawn was the leader of musical his underscoring, since he was the only one involved in music for the vast majority of the production. Below are various examples.

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In addition to Ted singing such songs as “You Light Up My Life” and “What the World Needs

Now,” one evening he asked the group to run a dance number through again “for fun and for profit”; he then began to sing, “Try to Remember.” Shawn accompanied him on the piano with the song from the musical The Fantastiks. Richard picked up on this, saying “That’s The Fantastiks, and that’s you, Ted— fantastic!”

Shawn also added musical accompaniment in a spontaneous manner to compliment humor throughout the production process. For example, one evening he simulated a heartbeat to make fun of a death scene on stage. Shawn also made the sound effects of loud booms and birds chirping.

There was talk about an earthquake one evening, and so Shawn began to play earthquake sounds on the piano. Another night, it was determined that Nathan’s cell phone was going off in the up stage left hallway, introducing a musical rendition of a song from Brigadoon, featuring bagpipes. This was a repeat performance, so folks laughed in admonition of Nathan’s carelessness yet again in terms of turning his cell phone off. Ted stood motionless, and looked his look, the one that mirrors Jack Benny when someone does something inane.

The Infrastructure: Humorous Versus Serious

The work of theatre—musical or otherwise—involves engaging in specific processes to arrive at quality stage products, and this work is serious. The directors’ conducting, blocking, and choreographing activities were serious. Actors’/performers’ singing, acting, and dancing activities were serious. The various technical elements complimenting the production increased seriousness. As the opening of the show approached, and technical and/or dress rehearsals were underway, seriousness increased. In fact, whenever stressors, tensions, and anxieties were fueled by the structure of or phase within the rehearsal process or by life events, personal differences, criticisms, competition, and/or conflicts, actors and production staff grew more serious.

However, at least in part, producing a successful musical theatre production encompasses the flexibility of participants to be both humorous or comedic and serious or dramatic. As one participant

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shared, there is humor in everything, even death and destruction, not only within this production, but in life in general. Humor could be found in most every event that transpired during the production, regardless of how amusing or somber. Thus, the frequency with which and extent to which humor was used provided further evidence that imitative and action-oriented play were at the root of theatre and humor.

Part of theatre’s attraction is the fun that people involved in it anticipate and experience. Humor and play help to foster fun experiences. Many participants mentioned how important it was to work hard and at the same time have fun. Play, humor, and fun were perhaps as important as the hard work necessary for creating an effective performance, presumably because the fun times helped to make the frequent and long hours of rehearsals seem less laborious. Thus, although the work on stage was typically serious, time before and after rehearsals, at breaks, and during notes was uplifting, playful, and both verbally and physically humorous.

Humor and play served a wide range of functions, some of which are discussed below regarding how participants responded either seriously or humorously during the production process. This is the third and final section covering the infrastructure of this study. This section is broken down into three major categories as follows: (a) theatre as both serious and humorous, hard work and fun, (b) serious on stage roles as the product of humorous off stage relationships, and (c) individual influences on and preferences for seriousness versus humor.

Theatre As Both Serious and Humorous, Hard Work and Fun

Almost everyone involved in this production viewed humor as possessing more advantages than disadvantages in accomplishing the work of theatre. Indeed, humor and fun appeared to go hand in hand as part of the work of the theatre. Theatre folks expected to have fun while at the same time working hard. In fact, one actor noted that humor made the hard and intense work of the theatre not seem so much like work at all.

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Mattie noted that play and humor are very much a part of theatre work. They help actors/performers, directors, and other staff to produce successful plays. There appeared to be a need to balance one’s time between work and play, seriousness and humor, however. She said: “

It’s so important especially when you are in shows and to be able to goof off and have fun. It’s serious business. [Ted] said numerous times how he wants you to have fun, but it’s also work. You have to. We are in this business because we love it, and we love to have fun. That is the bottom line.” Ted continued to note that humor served to break tensions primarily between and among actors/performers, because some tension always exists between actors and directors that one could erase. Ted also shared his convictions about the role of humor and play within the theatre framework. Specifically, he believed that humor was very important in contrast to the serious work performed on stage. He stated:

I think it [humor] is very important. I think that when you walk onto a stage, it is very serious

business. The minute you go off, you need to break that tension. There should be a mood change

from the character to the human being that you are. There is a sort of bantering, play, and

facetiousness. I think it is a very valid thing. I am not the only person who does it. All actors do

it, and most directors do it.

Lillian supported Ted’s idea when she added that humor helped others to address serious matters about themselves and/or others without offense. She said, “I think that humor always helps ‘cause you can say serious things without hurting someone’s feelings.” She continued to clarify by saying, “Most people aren’t smart enough to realize that that was just an insult.” In this way, humor allowed one to take criticisms without offense and relieved stress and tensions as well as lightened actors’ burdens, even those related to the emotional demands of their role. Lillian remarked:

I think that it helps to keep things light, and it releases a lot of the tensions. You know, I just had

a really crappy scene, but that was really funny what you just did. It helps keep everything in

perspective, and it brings us back around. I think that I also, and especially with the second Act, I

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would have to go offstage and make light of something to not be so freaking depressed all the

time. You know?

Certain production phases and processes also contributed to the humor or seriousness of mood within this production. Bettie, for one, noted that she thought humor served the serious work of the rehearsal process well. She stated, “I think that serves into the rehearsal process too. You want to make everyone laugh, and especially in a serious play like this. You want to be able to lighten the mood.”

Additionally, Bettie noted that certain points in the rehearsal process are more serious than others. To this end, she noted, “I think that as the production gets more serious, naturally the actors become more serious. When you’re getting closer to opening night, [for example,] the pressure is on.” Lines, for example, were important to learn, she noted, and when the show is running, it is important to be serious on stage. But she added, “darn it if we can’t do [humor] more backstage.”

Constance further indicated that both seriousness and humor are needed during the development of a production to offset stress and negativity. She claimed, “There is nothing wrong with being serious, but, you know, there needs to be some humor in there sometimes to lighten the mood with the stress that goes along with putting together a show.” Like Flo said, it made criticisms more palatable. Constance noted that “even if the note was, you did something wrong, it wasn’t you did something wrong, you know, like bad. I mean it was bad, but it was like, fix it, and it was in a joking way, but they knew he was serious.”

Blake further noted that people in the theatre are unlike other people due to the uncertainty or ambiguity they face in terms of their futures in the profession. That is, they may engage in humor, play, or seriousness in ways that people who have chosen traditional career paths do not understand. If people are looking to get married and find a secure job, perhaps it is because they fear uncertainty and guard against it by locking themselves out of their real desires, he commented. “I’m not saying we are all crazy or mentally disturbed,” Blake cautioned, but he continued, “People who are in theatre don’t know what’s

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going to happen. . . . I don’t know whether I’ll find a job or not, maybe I will, but no one knows.” Such uncertainty causes stress, which presumably is relieved by the presence of humor.

Mattie further clarified that actors/performers need to take their work seriously in order to become a paid professional eventually. But even in situations when they are unpaid, such as in this

University theatre context, she asserted: “They don’t take it seriously, they don’t work as hard as I want them to work, and that’s probably also because I’m kind of a perfectionist and anal, and I want everything to be perfect.”

The musical director, Shawn, noted that students varied in terms of their maturity levels with regard to humor and work. Sometimes he feared that they used too much humor, and that it fostered a lack of discipline. For example, he believed that excess play and humor created predispositions that he described as “immature, happy go lucky, and out of control.” He noted that these people did not always want to get their parts right. Rather they were likely to settle for, “Oh, why can’t you just be fun?” But he continued, “They are not realizing . . . it’s completely unprofessional and making us lose ground.”

According to Shawn, actors/performers who were easily distracted by humor were in contrast to serious- minded artists within the production who wanted to learn and grow; Shawn noted, “Then I’ve got these people over here saying, ‘Why are they here?’” Finally, Shawn made reference to yet a third group of actors/performers that he encountered as a director: “Then I think there are the other people who just don’t know any better. They just don’t know that what they are doing is really wrong.”

Mattie confirmed Shawn’s notion that overly amusing people could take time away from the important tasks of the theatre and, therefore, become a detriment to the rehearsal process. Specifically, she talked about how hard it was to work with people who did not take their work seriously. She explained:

It’s difficult when there are not very many professional people working around you, and [not] to

have that [working] atmosphere. Then again, I worked with a lot of people who were so serious

about it. [Richard] wanted that role so bad, and he got it. . . . [Nathan] did a really good job and

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[Lillian] and [Rue]. All the people that I worked close with in the play, they were all really there

all the time, and so it was really easy to work with them. If I hadn’t had a scene with one of those

people that I liked . . ., or somebody who really didn’t know what they were doing, I would

probably get frustrated.

Serious On Stage Roles As The Product of Humorous Off Stage Relationships

Many actors noted that on stage roles were developed and improved on as a result of off- stage relationships with fellow actors. In some instances, actors/performers knew one another prior to the production through the Department and/or former involvement in mutual productions. In other instances, actors/performers only had been introduced recently at this production or elsewhere. Below are a variety of explanations about how their personal and/or social relationships positively affected their stage roles and relationships.

As Flo noted, she and her acting partner, Stella, reaped social as well as professional benefits from their on- and off-stage relationships. She reported that what helped her most were a pencil to mark down her vocal and blocking notes, and connecting with Stella, who helped her develop good working habits and a quality performance. It was an added bonus that Stella and she had as much in common personally as they did professionally. Their similarities were noted to center on their life values—both were

Christians—and their work ethics. Flo stated:

When I find somebody that is along the same lines as me as just a person, I love that, and it’s

great. . . . I’m so focused on my discipline for [the theatre]. . . . I’m soindependent with myself,

and making sure I’m doing [my job]. . . . [Stella] helped me with [the given circumstances] a lot.

She has this mind; I feel like I’m such a ditz when it comes to, like, [Stella]. I’m like three years

older than her at least, and just feel like she has so much more insight than I do. I just don’t think

of that, and she just helps me out. I’m like “gosh, you are so smart.”

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Likewise, Stella also noted that her relationship with Flo was a tremendous help to her as a newcomer to this University. It further served as a catalyst to the successful development of her stage role. Regarding their morals and values, Stella noted, “That was just like a huge bond that we had between each other right away.” Their role work profited from their social relationship, she added: “We worked well together, and our chemistry was good together. We just had a lot of fun doing it [our roles], and getting to know each other.”

Furthermore, Mattie noted that humor helped actors work together better on stage by helping them build greater rapport with one another off stage. “Yes. [humor] makes you closer to the other people. It’s easier to work with people that you are going to have fun with,” she said. Having fun also helped actors prepare to act out serious emotions towards one another on stage, according to Mattie. She stated, “Also [humor] helps with serious things, for example, if I had to get up in [John’s] face, and yell at him, it would be uncomfortable because I don’t know him that well, and I don’t know that he knows that it’s just a character.”

Bettie noted as well how important it was to have on and off stage relationships with co- performers. All actors benefited from enlarging their circle of friends. They generated support systems that helped improve upon their stage relationships and roles both. She said, “I think [humor is] a huge icebreaker. I think it’s how you get to trust people. It’s, can I look stupid in front of you? It’s just a lot of it is, am I safe to try this with you, or are they going to laugh at me, or are they going to laugh at what

I’m doing?” Building trust was critical.

Cynthia further touted the benefits of humor in helping actors/performers build stage relationships through the function of trust. She recounted the following story. The previous year, Cynthia was in a production with Nathan, and he, among others, was supposed to touch her face and turn her off. “He just didn’t want to touch my face, like I was an upperclassman, and he had never really had a lead here,” she said. Over the summer, Cynthia noted that Nathan was able to loosen up around her as a result of going out to eat with her. So when Nathan was cast into a stage relationship within Cynthia, he could relate to

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her on stage. She said, “I think if [Nathan] wasn’t comfortable with me, to joke around with me, to be able to punch me, to hug me, or to do whatever, he wouldn’t have been nearly as good. . . . I would have felt bad for him, and I would have felt uncomfortable.” Cynthia further admitted that Nathan’s successful performance could have been the result of at least a couple of other causes: “Maybe he was more comfortable because he knew the part better. He just felt better with that cast because they weren’t all so old. Whatever works.”

Nathan further confirmed and emphasized the need for humor in his off-stage relationships as a means for improving his on stage roles. He claimed, specifically, that humor was a technique of sorts that helped him let go and discover the humor inherent in his role within the production. He said, “When I began to let go is when I began to find the humor. . . . I know that I had so many funny moments in the show that I had to let go. I had to not want to act it, and just say it myself.” Nathan added that being yourself is a key to being funny. He stated, “Usually the funniest stuff you do is close to your personality.

You can be all dramatic and play some crazy crack whore and be dramatic, but the more you are yourself is usually when you get the funnier laughs.” He cited examples of comic actors who reap laughs from being themselves, such as Jerry Seinfeld, Nathan Lane, and Matthew Broderick. So, in sum, humorous interchanges with others became a kind of personal trainer for Nathan in terms of his comic acting techniques. The benefits of humor were trust of and respect for oneself and others.

Individual Influences On and Preferences For Seriousness Versus Humor

Nathan, like Bettie, noted that certain people are funny by nature. It is a trait of theirs to be funny. He cited Hilda and his ex-girlfriend as examples of these kinds of people. Bettie also cited Blake.

However, Nathan noted that not everyone walks in and is immediately funny. Funny people helped him ease into his own sense of humor on and off stage, but he needed time on his own to discover his personal sense of humor, particularly in his stage role. He noted, “Funny begets funny,” but also claimed, “This is fine [to be naturally funny], but I needed to warm into it, and [humor] helped.”

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Cynthia noted that the artistic director, Ted, was key in helping to inspire the use of humor within this production. She said, “He was throwing in a lot of funniness. Maybe until the end, he was not quite as funny there.” She was grateful to the director, because she noted, “I think if we didn’t [use humor], we’d go insane.”

Indeed, Flo also remarked that both directors set a positive tone for rehearsals by the humor they used. It lighten the workload of rehearsals. She claimed, “[Ted] is kind of humorous, especially early on.

There is a good bit of humor going on. Then he gets grumpy because it’s like we are getting close to the show.” Shawn reportedly helped to spread the humor around also. When asked if their humor helped, she stated, “Yes! It helped to keep things light. It kept things fun, and they tried to make it feel like not so much work at rehearsals, especially when you weren’t getting paid. We are treated professionally.”

Predominantly, both directors set the stage by using humor during musical, blocking, and/or choreographic instructions and notes. This was done to help motivate the actors to follow up on their instructions and notes, to lighten the mood, and to soften criticisms. For example, the artistic director might say: “This is not a boys choir at the First Baptist Church”; “You are so relaxed, it is a Johnny

Mathis show—a whole other play.” He claimed that no one was to fall into the pit, then followed this with, “The violins are very fragile and expensive,” or “I don’t want any violins damaged.” He told them not to damage their voices, noting that he paid for them, and he wanted them. He periodically sang snippets of songs, such as “Try to Remember,” “Reach Out and Touch Somebody,” and “You Light Up

My Life”. He would ask, “Can’t you read my mind,” “Don’t you have faith,” or “Is there anything anyone is terribly horrified about?”

The musical director’s sense of humor was similar to the artistic director’s, and used for similar reasons. But Shawn wanted to build rapport too. So he told funny stories prior to or intermittently while working on the music. For example, he recounted a show within which he learned that he wore a size fifty-six bra, and how he used a tomato stake to unlock his car and then got really wet the next week when he took the car through the carwash. He sometimes played funny sounds on the piano to go with what

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was being said or acted out (an earthquake, a heart beat, or bird chirping sounds, for example). He said once after his notes, “That’s it. I’m out of paper,” and threw what paper he had on the floor.

Both made fun of themselves as well as a means of offsetting seriousness and reducing stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. Again, this type of self-deprecating humor helped to build rapport and trust with group members. The artistic director would say generally, “I don’t know. I’m not (the writer of this show).” To the researcher, he would say, “This is the dumbest way to make a living,” or “I’m good because I’m older than dirt”; one time he said, “Ah, in my next life, I’m going to be a vet. They (animals) don’t talk back.” Another time, he said, “I could take up serious drinking, and stay in bed longer than you’ve seen in your whole life.” The musical director referred to himself as “an insane professor” who gets his most exercise playing the piano.

Some actors/performers and production staff were more serious by nature. There were some observable differences between those several who in general preferred to be serious about their work versus those who preferred to engage in humor frequently. Those who preferred seriousness to humor in their interactions appeared to prefer added structure in their approach to character development as well.

For another, they appeared to have higher levels of anxiety about performing, and therefore worked harder to overcome tensions.

Rue, for instance, exemplified someone who was concerned about the methods she was using for her role and about what other people thought about her work, so much so that it led to deep seated worry.

Regarding her acting techniques, she used both pencil and paper, physical, and psycho-emotional methods. She also used acting techniques learned in classes and experienced in productions to create her lead role. As a senior, she worked much more methodically and insightfully than most other actors in this production. According to Ted, the artistic director, an actor’s level of technique is related to how serious they are about their work in the theatre: the more serious they are, the more they tend to use techniques.

Regarding Rue’s use of techniques, he said, “I have always liked her seriousness of purpose. She is very

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eager to be very good. I think that sometimes she doubts herself, and that makes her sometimes her own worst enemy. She is very much a self-critic.”

Rue’s desire for structured methods to approach her role reportedly correlated with an above- average level of performance anxiety. Prior to opening night, Rue said she felt anxiety: “I think it was just that I didn’t like what I was doing with the character, and I didn’t feel consistent with her yet. I would have liked an extra week of rehearsal. Like I said, I am a perfectionist.” According to Shawn, the musical director, Rue constantly second guessed herself. He said, “She doesn’t improvise well at all.

There is a believability element that is missing. Her performance] is too planned. She doesn’t believe in herself at all. I think she has quite a good instrument, but she is constantly asking [questions].”

Interestingly, Rue found humor to be most useful early on as a means of getting to know everybody so as to aid in working out stage business and role relationships on stage. Other than this, she was uncertain about what to say regarding the role of humor in theatre.

Cynthia reported that her relationship with Rue was such that they never joked or teased off stage.

Cynthia noted, “[Rue] and I have worked together many times. . . . We don’t ever joke around with each other off stage. We are just kind of talking as friends.” So she noted that some people need to joke around to be comfortable together on stage and others only need to talk together. Thus, some flexibility was needed to be both playful and humorous or serious and hard working, depending on others’ as well as one’s own preferences.

Needing things to be perfect about their work was not limited to Rue. Various actors fell into this category, such as Flo, who also was prone to above-average levels of performance anxiety, particularly with regard to singing. Flo noted that she grew tense, especially early on in rehearsals, because she was confused. Humor helped her, however. She stated:

Everything has to be perfect, and that’s how I want my timing to be—perfect with things. If

something goes wrong with me, and I get a note about it, like, [Flo], don’t fall in the pit or

whatever, it makes it funny, and I’m like okay, it’s a joke, and I’m not so embarrassed. I can go

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on, and I’ll do it right this time. It keeps my mind sane, I think, with the humor in rehearsal. I’m

not constantly criticizing myself for being dumb. Why did you forget that note or something? If

other people laugh at me, I’ll just laugh with them and go on. I’ll do it right the next time.

On the other hand, Luke, like Stella, found some humor to be distracting and annoying. Luke, unlike Rue, reportedly is not an anxious person. However, he did characterize himself as a quiet person:

“But, usually, I’m one of the more quiet people in the cast. I’m kind of withdrawn, and I’m just watching what’s going on on stage, and just thinking about what I’m going to do next.” As such, people cutting up sometimes got on his nerves. He noted, “Oh, well, at times, yes [people got on my nerves]. Only when they’re really not supposed to be, when something is going on on stage, and [the humor is] distracting other people.”

Blake agreed that humor is not always a welcomed part of everyone’s theatre experience. “If you are serious, then it’s annoying,” he noted. Mattie was sensitive to the fact that some people do not desire to be humorous. She said, “You never know how serious people are too.” Again, flexibility of communication was very important in terms of being able to increase or decrease one’s use of humor and seriousness, sense of fun and hard work.

The Interior Spaces: What Contributed to Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties?

A variety of factors contributed to increased stress, tensions, and/or anxieties among actors/performers and other staff and crew involved in this musical theatre production. The following discussion focuses on the role of humor during times when these factors were operative. When humor was absent due to high levels of stress or tension, as in the case of different production elements and conflicts that exacerbated such emotions during the rehearsal and performance phases of this project, then brief summaries are provided rather than examples with direct quotations. Details regarding these high stress episodes are condensed, given the role of humor ceased to be central during these times.

This fourth section of Chapter 3 is organized into four categories: (a) the experience of stress, tensions, and/or anxieties, (b) individual differences, (c) elements of the production process, and (d)

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criticisms, competition, and conflicts. The first category—the experience of stress, tensions, and/or anxieties—focuses on: (a) the actors’/performers’ stress and anxieties, (b) their life stressors, and (c) others’ perceptions of their stressors and anxieties. The second of these categories, individual differences, is subdivided into the following needs and perceptions of participants: (a) needs for approval, acceptance, and liking, (b) perceptions of mistakes and personal shortcomings, (c) uncertainty, ambiguity, and fear of the unknown, and (d) masking, unmasking, and vulnerability. The third category, elements of the production process, is subcategorized as follows: (a) newness, (b) high expectations to create and perform at peak levels, (c) point in the production process, and (d) production elements. The fourth and final category is broken down into the three major sub-points contained within its overall title— criticisms, competition, and conflicts.

The Experience of Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

Below are examples of ways in which actors in this study talked about their experiences of stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. For most, their experiences were negative, causing them to self-doubt and worry. However, in some instances, these emotions became a catalyst to improvements in acting, singing, and/or dancing performances. In other words, although stress, tensions, and/or anxieties normally worked against the actors and others, it could work for them.

Additionally, a couple of other items are discussed below in relationship to stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. Actors/performers talked about various life stressors that they experienced during the run of this production, and these are described briefly. Moreover, perceptions of actors/performers anxieties are reported from the point of view of both directors and two of the three stage managers.

Actors’/Performers’ Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

First, John, a freshman, arrived at auditions in sweats and gym shoes only to recognize that everybody else was dressed up. He had received inaccurate information about dressing for dance and movement. Only comic monologues and comic or dramatic songs were required for this audition. He said, “I guess you could say I was unprepared, and it was very stressful.” This was unfortunate for John,

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given he admits to finding auditions particularly problematic anyway. Although he loves to be on stage,

John noted, “I can’t go into auditions, and do really well. I’m horrible at auditions, so I can’t do that.

The first few rehearsal before I really get to know some people, I get upset and really discouraged. After that, it’s all fine and fun.”

Flo noted that she too became nervous when singing for auditions. She said, “The two other monologues that I just did for the other shows, I could feel the nervousness, and by the time I got to that one, I wasn’t nervous at all”; later she added, “I don’t care if I’m nervous or not nervous for monologues.

I care if I’m nervous for songs.” Flo reported that her breathing faltered, and her singing voice constricted and quivered when she was nervous. This led to worry about her performance, which carried over into scene work. She said, “I know what my attitude is entering into a scene, and then it keeps me going. If I’m constantly worried about what I’m supposed to be doing, nothing is going to come to me.”

Furthermore, Flo admitted that she also was nervous in the beginning of a run: “It’s just the very first entrance onto a scene is when I’m nervous, but for some reason for this show, I wasn’t, and I don’t know why.” She had to fall during one scene, and claimed that she was really nervous about that, adding “Once that went well, I wasn’t nervous.”

Nathan felt stress, tension, and/or anxiety about a number of things. He felt the large amount of dialogue he had in his lead role was “a challenge, and for the first couple of weeks, it was stressful.” He had felt confident with music for many years, but being new to musical theatre, he was anxious about many things: about being approved of, about competing, about not being able to dance, about not being funny, about not being able to follow the orchestra while singing, about ad libbing, and about whether he really wanted to do musical comedy or not; he stated, “Yes, I have horrible nerves.”

Mattie was nervous about her audition for this production. She asserted, “I was most nervous for this audition than the other two because I wanted it so bad.” She further noted, “Opening night was a big anxious moment for me.” Singing is anxiety provoking for Mattie as well. She revealed, “I know that I

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have to walk on and sing, and like I’ll try to swallow, and it won’t swallow. It gets stuck right here.

That’s when I get freaked out. . . .” But inevitably Mattie’s throat opens, and she is able to sing on stage.

Hilda also was nervous about singing, and dancing as well. She said, “I just don’t like it. It makes me nervous. It makes me real nervous. I can do the acting part, but singing and dancing make me nervous.” She added, “Anytime before a song, it’s just like, well, this isn’t going to be good, so I have to make people laugh back here.” In an upcoming production, Hilda had a lead role. She stated, “It’s a scary role. It made me freak. I always freak out though. I am a big neurotic ball of nerves.” She worried about auditions, being good in a role once she was cast in it, finding her character, getting laughs, and rehearsals; in fact, she noted that rehearsals were more anxiety provoking than performances.

Stella did not experience much performance anxiety, although she did admit to becoming nervous about certain people, at certain times when stress ran high for performers, such as during hell week (the week before opening), and when she felt that either the production or she were unprepared. She also noted that the actors/performers and staff had conflicts with the crew in this show, largely due to lack of interaction and clear communication, and this made for stress. “I realized the communication levels were down really low, and that caused for a lot of tensions and a lot of dirt to be slung in people’s eyes.”

Lillian was generally confident as well, however, she reported becoming anxious when something would happen unexpectedly or differently than planned. She said, “I never get nervous when I am in a run unless I know something’s not going to happen the way it was planned to happen.” She also referred to a keyed up feeling opening night that she would interpret as excitement rather than nerves. She stated,

“Opening night, [I had] butterflies a little bit, but that’s more excitement than it is, ‘Oh my gosh, I’m going to throw up.’”

Bettie was aware that everyone became more serious as the production moved closer to opening night. She said, “When you’re getting closer to opening night, the pressure is on.” She also noted that humor ceased when the stress increased; she continued, “I think it transfers from on stage to back stage.

You know, like we can’t goof around anymore on stage, but darn it if we can’t do it more back stage. I

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think that’s where it gets displaced.” Furthermore, Bettie noted that people who acted like divas— wanting their own way at the expense of others—also exacerbated the stress: “A lot of egos got boosted when they got cast in the show, and it was really tense. The atmosphere was really catty back there.”

Singing was an issue for Bettie as well. Apparently, although acting was never a problem, she had been unable to sing in front of others until the year before. “I could not sing in front of people without literally feeling like I was going to pass out. I didn’t have it as much in this show. The only performance anxiety

I had was being with the orchestra. . . . Auditions are still tough for me [too]. That’s the hardest part of this whole theatre thing.”

Gertrude cited mistakes and ad libbing as main sources of anxiety and tension. She also noted that she had become scared one evening when a wig pin pressing against her head caused her head to bleed. “I was obviously kind of scared because I didn’t know what was going on. [Blood] was everywhere. I was starting to get a little of the vision back, but I was fighting so hard not to pass out.

That made me exhausted for the practice that night.” Gertrude had taken a major criticism from Mitchell one evening about her ad libbing. This conflict left her anxious and tense. She said, “For the rest of show

. . ., it was almost like I was timid.”

Richard was worried about being cast in this show and pulling off the show, given its complexity.

He said, “I was really, really worried over the summer. I was kind of freaking out because I do have a fondness for the show. . . and because I did not feel that we had enough talent to do it, especially guy wise.” Later he noted that he was pleased that they did have the talent, as it turned out. Other anxieties stemmed around needing another week of rehearsal, working with the orchestra and technical elements of the production, auditions, being in his first lead role, placing high expectations on himself to do well. He also worried that he would tighten up and not be able to sing. He said, “My throat would tighten up, and

I’d be like, ‘Oh, relax, relax, relax.’ Then the curtain goes up, boom I’m on, and it’s gone. I’m there.”

Constance reported, “I have been more anxious about others shows.” She used some mental talk to pump herself up about her friends coming to see the show like “I have to do a good performance” or “Don’t

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mess up, [Constance].” But other than these few items, she reported little to no anxiety. Constance, however, was observed to be a loner and quiet.

Mitchell reported that he was not the nervous type. “I don’t feel nervous at all. I get out there, and I am being something else, so it’s easy.” He continued, however, that directly confronting the audience was difficult for him when he had to do so following the fire alarm. He said, “I just tried to take it a little bit less seriously. That helped for me to take the nervous edge off. I try to develop that kind of rapport with the audience. . . . I tried to get that way with the cast as well, which helped a lot too.”

Mitchell noted also that seeing other people so nervous helped him feel better about himself, because he felt like he knew what he was doing. Then, he claimed, “I can help them, you know, and that was actually nice. I liked feeling like the confident one who knew what I was doing, and had my stuff together.”

Rue as well as others mentioned that she was someone who experienced a high degree of stress, tension, and anxieties. Rue said that she was really nervous opening night. She experienced a rapid heartbeat, excitement, her stomach in knots, and shaking hands. After opening night, she claimed that she was comfortable in her role, but she worried if she failed to receive compliments or please her directors, teachers, or audiences.

Cynthia experienced a lot of anxiety over production elements, such as the orchestra and set pieces in place on time. She also claimed that she was anxious opening night, and when she felt the audience was not with her or was giving her negative feedback, like they did not like her. Since Cynthia had had surgery of her vocal cords within several months, and had lost three of her top notes, she was concerned about her voice going to a higher register. “I was always worried about hitting the notes,” she said.

Luke did not report a lot of performance anxiety at this point in his life. He claimed that he had grown in confidence as a result of performance experience. However, he also noted that he had experienced the symptoms: “I start sweating. My hands start shaking. My knees start shaking, and

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sometimes I feel queasy. I start worrying that I’m going to forget my lines or fall flat on my face. Things like that.” Also Luke noted that Ted made him nervous “every once in a while”; he said, “[Ted] makes me nervous just because he can be intimidating at times, but I’ve learned to kind of overlook that, and do what I think is right anyway.”

Maria noted that Rue had helped her overcome some of her anxiety by helping her come up with ways to approach her role. Maria further noted that the larger the role, the more anxiety she experienced, but with “the smaller roles, I am kind of like ‘who cares.’”

Blake noted that he experienced anxiety as a rule. “Oh, yeah. A lot. All the time. It’s part of this profession. You cannot get away from it.” For him, anxiety was a mental rather than physical experience. He would think “I’m not good enough,” “Nobody is laughing,” and “stupid stuff like that”;

“You criticize yourself more,” he said. Blake further noted that many great actors get nervous. In fact, he said, “People who are confident about themselves are not good actors.” With every role, he added, there are some reservations. “When you start a new role, you start a new life. You start from the beginning.

That is what’s difficult about this profession. Seems that you have to do everything from the beginning.”

Ralph asserted that since he played a villain, he made a lot of other people anxious on stage and in the audience. As an antagonist, he was supposed to create tension within the production. Personally, he said, “I always struggle with anxiousness. . . . I kind of worry about colleagues and teachers.

Sometimes I think I give off the . . . image that I don’t care or that I am nonchalant about things, but that is not true. . . .” He added, “The fact that I may not be good enough always comes up” as well.

Actors’/Performers’ Life Stressors

Life stress for John was his need to deal with some emotional issues. For Flo, it included a lack of time to see her boyfriend, some family issues with her mother, and the September 11, 2001 tragedies.

Mattie was nervous about the terrorist attacks as well as many others, but even more so since she was supposed to travel to New York City during fall break. She also was experiencing stalking by an ex-

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boyfriend. bad sentence. Lillian was sick with a cold, which she reported was stressful for her, and healthy competition between and among actors/performers that can be stressful sometimes.

Bettie was stressed about September 11, like many people, since she knew people in New York

City. Regarding this event, she used the following analogy: “I was so numb. You realize two weeks later that you still have the film on the glass, and you have to peel the film off, and you’re like, ‘Oh, now I see it so clearly.’ Like I felt like I was walking around with that film on.” Given Bettie’s father was a fireman, she also feared for the audience when the fire alarm that went off during the last performance.

Richard, too, “was freaking out” about September 11. Richard also used to date the stage manager, and was worried about working on this show with him. He said, “It never escalated into anything more than me just being a little bit uncomfortable with being around him or, you know, just weird moments.”

Constance was worried about her hectic schedule with her first semester of college and being in the show; she did not have as much time to study as she would have liked.

Regarding September 11, Mitchell stated, “I have never been more angry and upset in my entire life.” Mitchell also was stressed about the new format of auditions used this particular year and an upcoming nationwide theatre competition. Concerning life stress, Cynthia noted that her Mother and her boyfriend were demanding on her time, she worried about doing well in her classes, and she claimed that new directors stressed her out. Luke had a roommate who was uncleanly that caused him stress. Maria cited boyfriend problems as her main life stress issue during this production. For Blake, life stress came in the form of losing his job and benefits due to the terrorist events of September 11. Rue and Ralph did not report any life stress, although Peter noted that Rue’s parents’ house had been broken into during the show, and that she was upset about that for two days.

Others’ Perceptions of Actors’/Performers’ Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

Peter, the lead stage manager, noted that the following actors/performers appeared to experience the most stress, tension, and/or anxiety: Rue, John, Lillian, Richard, and Nathan. He claimed that “[Rue] gets nervous no matter what. She has to be left alone about two minutes before she goes on stage. She

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does whatever she does [to prepare] back stage.” He claimed that “[John] was really freaked out because this was his first stage show.” Finally, he claimed that Lillian, Richard, and Nathan all were nervous because this was the first time each had had a lead role on this campus.

Regarding life stress, Peter felt that the events of September 11 were the most stressful. Peter tried to talk Ted out of holding rehearsal and/or to get him to let the group out early or to hear the

President’s speech, but Ted was resolute about conducting business as usual. “A lot of actors were angry, upset, frustrated, and sad. It was an extremely big deal,” he noted.

Assistant stage manger, Katherine, pointed out that there were many fears initially about the show’s casting, but she felt that all turned out well in the end. She felt that Nathan and Richard experienced anxiety as a result of being in their first major roles within this Department. She understood that they were afraid of making mistakes, of not singing their roles well, and/or of not portraying their roles well. She noted too that Mattie was doing her first lead role, and because she was a perfectionist, probably experienced anxiety. Regarding Rue, Katherine stated, “Definitely. [Rue] is the type who. . . she does get really nervous. She can be very insecure about things.” Rue asked questions all the time.

Katherine also thought that Hilda was nervous and bored back stage, but indicated that humor was Hilda’s means of coping. “[Hilda] is always just a character back stage.”

Again, Katherine rated the events of September 11 as the pinnacle of life stress for most cast and staff members in this production. “I think a lot of people there were very upset that [Ted] didn’t cancel rehearsal that day,” she said. She continued, “I think [Ted] made the early comment about the whole fact that the theatre and the show must go on, and [that] the shows were still open, but in all actuality, the shows did end up closing the rest of that week in New York, the Broadway shows.” She added that she thought Ted was trying to give encouragement and succor by holding rehearsals and making the previous comments. But the ensemble did not know how to deal with the circumstances. “We were just anxious and nervous, and not knowing why this was happening or what it meant. I think the only way [Ted] could

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deal with it was by not being at home, [but by] being there at school, and saying ‘Okay, regardless, we are still doing this show, and we still need to rehearse.’”

Concerning other types of life stress, Katherine pointed out, “Our faces are always breaking out, or [we] always gotta do this or gotta do that, we have to stay up until 4:00 a.m. because we have a test tomorrow. Those kinds of things. . . . It’s finding the time the rest of the day to get your homework and studying done.”

The musical director, Shawn, was nervous about our interview. In addition, he pointed out that

Rue was one of the most anxious performers in the production. “She constantly second guesses herself.

She doesn’t believe in herself at all. . . . She needs to know concrete information all of the time.” In addition, Shawn stated, “Here the anxiety is about the egos. It’s about each other.” He further noted competition for roles as part of their tensions toward each other. Personally, Shawn indicated that he experienced a lot of anxiety in this production, as did the actors/performers, with the orchestra. He revealed:

The trauma for me as a musical director in this show and conducting it was having three

people out of twenty-five that had never even seen a conductor’s stick before, and a show that

is extremely fragile, and could fall apart at any moment. It really could and it proved itself

because every night it fell apart somewhere different.

Shawn claimed that the reason he used such a large orchestra instead of perhaps a smaller one, an electronic orchestra, or even the piano alone, related to his commitment to producing shows as closely as possible to the way intended. He said, “I firmly believe that you should do a show to as close as the way it was meant to be as possible. The first thing [Ted] said to me when [the show] was picked was sequence it. Put it on a computer and not have an orchestra.” However, Shawn knew that the student actors/performers could not be accurate enough to follow an electronic orchestra on tape. He continued by adding, “At the higher levels—regional and up—they are going to have a conductor with a stick, and at some point they need to learn how to follow one. I thought it was valuable for that end of it.”

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Finally, Ted noted that most performance anxiety stemmed from self-doubt: “They are worried about not being one hundred percent when they walk onto the stage.” Ted felt that Rue did an excellent job in her role, but was very anxious in her work. He noted, “She is very much a self-critic” and “doubts herself” so much that she become “her own worst enemy.” Ted cited Nathan, Cynthia, Lillian, and

Richard as experiencing self-doubt as well. He further noted that actors often upstage one another, which for some caused anxiety. Also actors needed positive feedback, even from peers, and compliments in order to avoid anxiety. Furthermore, Ted cited various technical elements of the production that caused performers anxieties, such as the sound, sets, and the orchestra.

Moreover, Ted did confess that the events of September 11 created tension and stress for the cast and staff. He stated:

I think the events of September 11th were difficult for them to transcend, and I think that gave

them sort of divided feelings for a while. . . . A lot of it is the decision, and I said this that night,

that when the world makes you fall and stumble, it is very important not to stop. I have a

tendency to keep on keeping on. That is part of the way I work. It is the part of the way I train

actors. For the next two or three nights, people got out early, and I was a little more gentle with

them. I tried to be nurturing, but I did not stop, and that is just me. I don’t think that that meant I

felt any less grief or any less helplessness than anybody else. That is the way I deal with major

crises.

For Ted, this production was stressful due to its difficulty and the status of the nation at the time. He had a lot of problems to solve, and it was a lot for him to juggle. “As soon as the play was over, I was immediately crushed with all of these other things that I have to do and I have to address. For me it wasn’t the easiest time to do a play, and the events of September 11th didn’t help,” he asserted. He continued, “I wish [the show] wasn’t so damn hard. I liked it, and I am glad I did it. I think we were pretty successful with the show.”

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Individual Differences

Needs for Approval, Acceptance, and Liking

It safely can be said that actors and others sought acceptance, liking, and approval to varying degrees throughout the production process. Actors generally possess a high need for attention from others, and humor is one way to attract attention—liking, approval, acceptance—they desire. Since actors need to become vulnerable on stage in order to come across as sympathetic characters that audiences will like, they tend to strive for people to like them in their personal lives as well. It is an inherent part of theatre business to be appealing to others, so much so that success in the business depends upon one’s attractiveness to varying degrees. If performers are unable to meet their needs in these areas, it can lead to stress and anxiety.

First, as the artistic director, Ted, pointed out, “there is always a little bit of tension between actors and directors,” a phenomenon established by the need for a director to instruct and critique, and the need of an artist to bring spontaneous, creative ingenuity to a role. This response from actors/performers to authority generates a high need for approval and liking. Second, as Ted pointed out, actors/performers experienced a lot of “self-doubt.” Ted said, “They are worried about not being one hundred percent when they walk onto the stage.” As such, actors/performers looked to authority figures to provide them with the reassurances they needed to feel secure, whether through attention, acknowledgement, or positive feedback.

The need, in particular, for Ted and Shawn to be liked, accepted, and approved by the actors/performers also was operative during this project. It is human nature to want to be liked and accepted, especially when you are in a position of authority. As an example, Constance talked about how humor was used to soften criticisms, and how theatre people acted friendly toward one another in order to entice others to like them. She noted how a new theatre director at her high school her senior year proceeded to conduct himself in a very friendly manner around students in order to garner liking. She observed, “He was very young. He was really nice, and he was really nice about it because I think he

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didn’t want people to not like him because he was new. He was just nice about how he went about things.” When asked if he was friendly, Constance replied yes, and again replied yes to the fact that he used humor as a means of generating his observed needs for liking and acceptance. Unclear sentence

Like Constance’s new high school teacher, each cast and crew brings new people together. As such, needs for liking and approval increase. Shawn pointed out that Ted needs to be liked and complimented in a show, and needs his actors to work self-sufficiently. Shawn admitted to having such needs too, and noted that everyone in the theatre uses humor to a certain degree to help meet these kinds of needs for liking, acceptance, and approval.

Bettie stressed Ted’s needs also. “He really has a deep desire to have the students be his friends in a way. Not so much as, like, buddy-buddy, like he and [Cynthia] are, but just to be friendly with him.

He really wants to have that respect and liking of students.”

Cynthia further noted that she thought Ted had a high need for others to approve of and like him.

She deduced this from the fact that he would not personalize his negative feedback to actors in this production regarding ad libbing, which she complained “drove me insane” and made “[me] mad and angry.” She further noted that sometimes because Ted liked a student, he did not want to tell them they were doing something wrong. She observed:

He doesn’t want to feel uncomfortable every time he walks into the lounge and he sees them. It’s

hard because you know you are going to be working with these people again. I know that it was

hard for [Mitchell] to say some stuff to people, but [Mitchell] finally broke down and did it. It

didn’t help, and that’s when I think I knew [Ted] realized it wouldn’t work. He just didn’t start

the confrontation.”

Thus, sometimes humor was not enough to soften criticisms or directives for certain actors/performers.

By times, this may have caused the quality of a performance to be sacrificed to a small degree in favor of the need for liking, acceptance, and/or approval.

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In addition, during Ted’s last blocking rehearsal for Act I, choreography was the focus of the evening. The humor involved in choreographing Ted’s routine caused Constance, a few others, and myself to laugh with gusto. After describing to Ted how funny some of the activity on stage was to us, he replied, “Well, you know, there is nothing funnier than watching a bald, middle-aged man. . .”. I tried to console him that our laughter had nothing to do with him, and referenced some performers’ comments and actions that had stirred our laughter. But Ted assumed the worst by claiming that what he was doing was not really choreography; it was merely “dumb little shit.” I apologized, and assured him that the humor was wonderfully funny and delightful. Soon afterwards, the group took a break. I could hear Ted call out to Richard on their way up the isle of the auditorium to go smoke, “Okay, give me a break.

You’re suppose to tell me that that was good or something”; Matt replied, “That was great.” This incident appeared to reveal Ted’s need for approval.

Rue noted high needs for approval from faculty. She said, “I was worried about what . . . are the professors going to think. I want people to have a high opinion of me. I want them to respect my work.”

She continued, “I tried to say if people don’t like it, then I am sorry they don’t because I am trying as hard as I can, and I just hope that they remember that this is college, and that I am not a professional actor, and this is why I am here to learn.”

After Cynthia’s interview, she revealed her high needs for approval by authority figures as well by revealing how much she loved the faculty at this University. She loved to go out and socialize with them, she told me; in fact, she enjoyed their company more than that of the students. She was close to

Ted, in particular, relying on him for support and guidance. Faculty support, including acceptance and liking, was important to Cynthia as well as for Rue.

High expectations.

Regarding the expectations placed on actors, it is important to note that one of the distinguishing elements of all performing arts professions is their public nature. Actors are observed by at least their directors, teachers, peers, the public, and casting personnel. They do not elect acting or performing as

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majors unless they enjoy self-confidence and a desire to be in the public eye. Nonetheless, research and experience reveal that all actors undergo different levels and kinds of performance anxieties at times during their careers.

Naturally, doing one’s best is equated with high expectations from all production personnel and the public who anticipate polished, credible performances. High expectations to perform well coupled with new roles and people caused actors to second-guess themselves and their abilities. This often led to fears, such as not being funny on stage, not being good (special or talented), and as not fitting in with other actors and/or directors.

Newness.

Tension is induced by any number of factors, not the least of which is newness to a role and to fellow actors and/or directors. A variety of actors were in their first large stage roles in this production. In addition, there were many freshmen placed in key roles, more than normally would be. This was due to the inherent difficulty in casting such a vocally demanding production. Any new character is “a new life, a new beginning,” as one student put it, but when you are in a lead role and/or in a new school for the first time, the pressure is on to prove yourself. If the role is challenging, the pressure is increased. If you feel that you are receiving little feedback and attention from your directors, you also begin to feel a sense of ambiguity, uncertainty, and a lot of self-doubt. This increased anxieties and tensions for a number of actors/performers reporting these feelings.

Former experiences that students have had have provided them with perceptions about how well they do. Many newcomers to the department have been stars in their own schools or communities. They, therefore, continue to experience a need to be validated as “good” at acting, singing, and/or dancing. Ted continued:

I don’t think they were worried about so much what they were doing as how it would be

perceived. That is a freshman thing. They wanted people to perceive the fact that they were

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really good. They really wanted to be good, and they wanted to be perceived that way. I think

that is a transition that they will make in the next two or three roles that they play.

Perceptions of Mistakes and/or Personal Shortcomings

Humor helped actors further cope with their weaknesses or shortcomings and/or with mistakes during the show. Mistakes and actors’ shortcomings are perpetual sources of fears and anxieties, given the public nature of the profession. Below are various ways in which humor served actors/performers and other staff members during such perceived phenomena.

For example, Hilda noted that humor helped her cope with her shortcomings as a singer and dancer. She stated, “Well, I know I had to cut up backstage just because I don’t like dancing or singing.

Anytime before a song, it’s just like, well, this isn’t going to be good, so I have to make people laugh back there. . . . You look at it more in a positive way.” Hilda continued to note that her joking around backstage did not interfere with her performances. She noted, “As long as I’m in character when I’m joking around, I can still go out and do whatever I need to do to get stuff.” Humor helped this actress to relax and have fun.

Lillian represented another actor/performer who felt that humor could help any of the cast or crew from becoming distracted by mistakes, personal shortcomings, or poor performances. Humor helped to

“keep things light” and to release “a lot of the tensions.” She continued, “You know, I just had a really crappy scene, but that was really funny what you just did. It helps keep everything in perspective, and it brings us back around.”

Another actress, Bettie, noted too that humor helped actors cope with their personal shortcomings. She called humor “a safety net for when you screw up.” Bettie explained her perceptions by describing humor as a “huge icebreaker,” designed to help actors trust one another so that they can feel safe, and let go in front of one another; she stated, “Things like that break the ice, and they help you become more comfortable in being vulnerable, which is basically what you have to be on stage if you

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want to come across as anything real.” Worrying about whether they are good enough only blocks their ability to perform at peak levels.

According to Gertrude, sometimes things on stage did not go as well as planned, especially after the orchestra was introduced. She cited examples of music cues that did not fit or high-speed tempos that were hard to follow. As a result of these glitches in the music, Gertrude said, “There was some drama between people coming off stage. ‘Oh my God, it went so fast here, and I’m singing this line, and then I screwed up there, and it made me do this, and it made me [do that].’ You know?” Humor was a way of lightening these burdens, and enabling actors/performers to move on despite mistakes that may have ensued on stage.

Peter, the stage manager, recognized also that actors/performers were prone to getting upset if they made a mistake during a performance. “If they mess up, they get upset, or if something doesn’t happen right, they get upset. But then, we just have to fix it, and then they’re fine.” Usually, keeping a sense of humor aided everyone in coping with and easing the stress, tension, and anxiety generated from experiencing these mistakes, according to Peter.

Some humor used by both crew and staff in particular focused on errors in the production or the shortcoming of the actors—line mistakes, timing errors, weaknesses in roles or singing and dancing performances, and so on. In other words, jokes sometimes became disparaging. The point was that mistakes or the threat of them led to tension. In order to relieve that tension, people engaged in joking behaviors, albeit disparaging behavior. Hilda noted too that anxiety was increased due to mistakes, primarily during rehearsals. She stated:

I get more anxiety during rehearsals than I do during performances because in rehearsals I feel

like if you mess up. . . —you are just constantly messing up, and you are not finding it, and it’s

not right—then the people that are in the next scene with you that are sitting out in the audience

watching you are going “Hmmm. That’s cold.”

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In addition, she said, “It’s like I’m always nervous that I’m not going to get the laugh, even if it’s the first rehearsal! It’s bad.” Hilda was known to be a funny person, and therefore, felt pressured to be funny all the time. “That does put pressure on you to be funny and get laughs. Sometimes you are not funny. You get into a spiral there.”

Performers possessed some risk of forgetting lines or being unable to deal with unexpected occurrences on stage, but because they were so well rehearsed and skilled in their roles, they themselves were unlikely to trip up during the show. Interferences were more likely to negatively impact performances alone. For example, one performer did fall off the upstage most runway platform one night, a set piece failed to arrive on stage as planned one night, and ad libbing threatened some actors’ sense of security on stage. These were the kind of incidences that may have led to actors’/performers’ superstitious behavior.

For example, one night during the first dress/tech rehearsal, a glass did not make it on stage. So

Rue, who needed to drink something in the scene, asked someone to pour some drink in her hand. This generated some laughter. Opening night, one actress lost her hat on stage during Act II. Later in the scene, another actor picked it up, held it up, wondering what to do with it, and carried it off stage. This also stirred some laughter.

Uncertainty or Ambiguity and Fear of the Unknown

The unknown caused tensions. For example, actors felt uncertain about the directors’ vision or controlling concept, or they did not have enough feedback on how well they were doing in their role to feel confident. Pressures also stemmed from not knowing what the future might bring in the actors’ lives.

Apparently, given the uncertain nature of an actor’s career, some upperclassmen found themselves ruminating about their futures.

As Nathan noted, actors are not supposed to ad lib, but when something was funny enough, he said, “I don’t think [Ted] is going to yell at me when it’s that funny.” Indeed, Nathan added a funny bit opening night. It received a lot of audience laughter. As predicted, Ted did not chastise him for it.

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Nathan continued, “I think there are ad libs that can be very funny. Some of the funniest lines of the show or moments are not in the script.”

On the other hand, many performers found ad libbing to be unprofessional and anxiety provoking.

Reponses to this subject varied. Lucille found ad libbing to be unwarranted. “How dare you think that you have the right . . . to change . . . anything to that script?” she noted. Lucille further emphasized, “I think that huge, one-line ad libs, they are completely wrong to me. I think it shows a sign of un- professionalism and a sign of a weak actor.”

Mitchell blamed ad libbing on the void left in the actors’/performers’ conceptions of the production because the director failed to establish a clear through-line early on. “A lot of people felt like it was their own show, and that they could say whatever they wanted,” he complained. But as Mitchell explained regarding ad libbing, “Those weren’t choices for the show, they were choices against the show and for the individual.” He continued to explain that people were worried about the audience not laughing at them, so in an effort to be funny, they engaged in ad libbing. When folks were ad libbing,

Mitchell contended that they were not funny, however. As he pointed out, “you can’t force it.”

According to Gertrude, Mitchell left her very confused and uncertain one evening. Apparently, he angrily asserted, “You need to stop fucking up on stage. Why do [you] have to try to steal every scene?” She continually asked him, “What are you talking about? If you will tell me, than I’ll try to fix it, whatever I’m doing.” Left with an unclear reason for Mitchell’s outburst, Gertrude remained confused, uncertain, upset, and distressed. Maria soothed her anxiety by reassuring her that their job was to do theatre, not to deal with diva moments and gossip. Maria reportedly said, “We are not here to make others’ jobs a living hell!”

One evening during rehearsals, Gertrude decided to ad lib by jumping onto Blake’s back piggyback style. It was a humorous, albeit dangerous, gesture. Blake had no forewarning of the act. Ted noted, “It is a bad choice for [Blake] because it wasn’t rehearsed. This is just [Gertrude] being a freshman. . . . It was changed. It didn’t happen again.” On the other hand, Ted conceded, “A lot of

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actors don’t like [ad libbing]. They don’t expect it, and they don’t know how to deal with it. . . . Others find it much more likeable, and spontaneity is needed in the roles that we do.” That is, some actors deal with the uncertainty of ad libbing well, and some do not. In response to this concept, Ted said, “I think some of it is fine, and I think some of it is not fine. It depends on who your colleagues are on stage. If your colleagues on stage don’t like you to do it, then you shouldn’t do it.”

Ted too could be hard for students to understand. Bettie pointed out, “He frustrates some students by either being overly friendly, or sometimes telling things that may not exactly be true just to appease them at that point because he doesn’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings. So you’re never quite sure where you stand with him.” Even his humor, according to Bettie, can be hard to read. “It’s just like the jokes he made at notes. . . . You are never exactly sure. You are kind of like, ‘Okay, I sort of know what you mean.’ You know?” Later she added, “I think the way we feel about [Ted] is the way he feels about us.

We don’t know where he stands with us, and he doesn’t know where we stand with him.”

Bettie continued to note that ambiguity and uncertainty led to stress when performers were unprepared. Nothing encourages confidence, she explained, like “Just knowing your material, knowing that you are on top of it, and knowing that you are going to be able to spring, you know?” Knowing your lines is another important aspect of acting and performing preparation. Bettie pointed out different times where fellow actors/performers did not know their lines well. “I was always afraid of the opening of Act

II, the last scene. . ., before the second prologue with [Richard]. He never quite had those lines,” she said.

“I’m always nervous on stage with [Cynthia] because I have had her go up on lines with me so many times before,” she added. And she wished that various freshmen had been more observant about preparing for either auditions or scene work.

The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 occurred during the data collection phase of this project. This was a difficult time for many. It was difficult for Bettie, given she was uncertain about what might have happened to friends on hers living in or around New York City. Not knowing if anyone was hurt or trapped in the World Trade Centers caused her to lose sleep; she said, “I didn’t sleep at all,

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and subsequently I got sick, which also was more stress and anxiety because I didn’t have a voice until I would say two days before the show opened. . . . I think I maybe slept six hours between Tuesday and

Friday of that week.” Stella shared these same fears and concerns. She said, “I have family in New York, and I have, you know, relatives that are in the services. What do you want me to think about this? How do you expect me to concentrate. . . [when I have] people that I love as well that could be in danger.” She reported that after calling to inquire about whether rehearsals would be held the night of September 11, “I hung up the phone, and I almost started crying. . . . I cannot believe we are having rehearsal after classes all over the world have been paused for this event. . . . I was upset, and I know a lot of people in the cast were. It was not a good time.”

Stella added that lack of preparation of the production overall was a source of anxiety as well. “If

I think the show itself is unprepared, then I will definitely have some major performance anxieties like I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to do this show, and it sucks.” She assured me that that kind of thing had only happened to her a couple of times. It was not a common occurrence, and it depended on the production.

Not knowing what was going to happen to her sister when she fell ill the morning of the final performance also was a concern for Stella. She said, “Closing night my sister had to go to the hospital that morning. I was beside myself. That was so hard to get rid of onstage.” She continued, “That was really rough because we didn’t know what was wrong with her at all. I was panicked, and that was just crazy.”

Richard noted that sometimes he would use humor that others did not understand, which led to criticisms from them. He stated, “There were a couple of times that tensions were running high, and I’ll do something every once in a while, and it’ll be stupid, and it’ll be a joke, but people don’t understand that it’s a joke or whatever. It becomes a big, huge issue with people saying stuff.” This occurred when others did not share his sense of humor, he deduced.

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Finally, Blake mentioned in his interview that actors live with the tension of not knowing what their futures will hold. This is due to the need to prove oneself repeatedly in auditions and the to live with uncertainty in securing acting and/or performing roles. He stated, “People who are in theatre don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know whether I’ll find a job or not, maybe I will, but no one knows.”

Blake believes that it is a result of a large, unknown factor that people in the theatre rely on humor to a large degree. Humor becomes a tonic that sooths and uplifts the spirit in the face of uncertainty, ambiguity, or the unknown.

Unmasking, Vulnerability, and Masking

In the theatre, actors/performers are trained to tell the truth, to unmask and to open themselves mentally, emotionally, and physically. Since the actor is the instrument in the act and art of acting, openness and malleability become qualities necessary for creating believable characterizations and relationships with others on stage. However, unmasking and telling the truth constitute threatening behaviors in and of themselves. Not only are actors open to more criticisms from others than an average individual, they are apt to be more open and honest with regard to their own criticisms of themselves as well.

Ted, the artistic director offered the most cogent example of unmasking among actors/performers.

As the production progresses, he contended that actors/performers develop more or less strong interpersonal relationships. There is so much stress going on that they have to decide who they can work with and who they cannot. Specifically, Ted said, “There is so much unmasking going on backstage.

You really are yourself, and not pretending to be nice, and pretending to be friendly all the time. There is a lot of truth going on backstage. Actors simply learn who they enjoy working around, and who they don’t enjoy working around. I wish they would shut up about it sometimes, but that is the nature of the theatre.”

Several students mentioned that acting and performing made them so vulnerable that they feared without humor they would be less mentally healthy. Since the actor is the instrument, it is imperative to

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draw on their physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual selves in order to perform. As such, students like

Flo, said things like: “It keeps my mind sane I think with the humor in rehearsal. I’m not constantly criticizing myself for being dumb.” She also noted that she is a perfectionist: “Me personally, I would go crazy because I want things to be perfect. Everything has to be perfect, and that’s how I want my timing to be perfect with things.” Cynthia further noted, “I think if we didn’t [use humor], we’d go insane.”

Bettie also noted that humor helped people to relax and open up, to be vulnerable for their acting and performing. She said, “Things like that break the ice, and they help [you] become more comfortable in being vulnerable, which is basically what you have to be on stage if you want to come across as anything real.”

Unmasking one’s emotions through their actions leaves one vulnerable to the criticisms of others.

It is like wearing one’s emotions on their sleeves. Richard noted this during times of high stress and tension when he tried to be particularly funny. As noted in the previous section concerning criticisms, he experienced others’ criticisms, calling him an “overachiever” or snickering at him for being himself essentially.

On the other hand, actors and production staff also attempted to mask their true feelings by using humor. Lillian, for example, noted that humor helped to mask true feelings sometimes. She stated, “I mean you can say, you know, that just sucked, and you can laugh afterwards, and they’re like, ‘Oh, okay.’

Most people aren’t smart enough to realize that that was just an insult.” So not only can someone “say serious things without hurting someone’s feelings,” by using humor also because it “keeps things light, and it releases a lot of the tensions.”

Mitchell asked what a certain character died of at the end of one of the scenes in Act II. Ted replied “a heart attack . . . or leprosy.” This bit of humor was used to mask Ted’s predicament of not knowing what caused the character’s death. In order to cover himself, he retorted promptly, “No. A heart attack, I think.”

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One of the actors, Nathan, used the expression “Whaaaa?” in order to plead ignorance. It was a line from the play, always delivered in a bewildered, dumbfounded manner. In a joking way offstage,

Nathan would use this same phrase to cover up or mask an emotion or action he did not want others to perceive.

Masking behaviors were used repeatedly in order to cover up mistakes on stage as well. This engaged actors/performers in ad libbing or improvising for the moment in order to keep the performance going even though their prop may not have been there for them, or someone else may have skipped a like, or someone dropped something on stage that had to be removed, or they forgot what they were suppose to do next.

Elements of the Production Process

This paper is not about production elements per se, since they did not positively contribute to the use of humor in this production. However, elements of the production process did contribute to actors’/performers’ stress, tension, and/or anxiety levels and the reduction of humor. Therefore, what follows is a brief discussion of some of the elements that negatively affected the role of humor and its use during this production.

It should be recognized that various ideas regarding points in the production process that increased or decreased everyone’s negative emotions were discussed already within the first section of this chapter. Again, the greater the tension, the more serious participants became; the more moderate to low the tension, the greater everyone’s use of humor. Tension was increased, for example, for auditions, as blocking, voice, and/or dance instructions became more complex, as rehearsals evolved into more serious run-throughs, as technical elements and staff were introduced, when technical and dress rehearsals ensued, for opening night, and when anything went wrong, especially if it called on actors/performers to improvise or ad lib on stage.

Other aspects of the production process that are critical to understanding participants' experiences of stress and anxieties include the following: (a) production elements, including the orchestra, sets,

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props/properties, lights, sound, special effects, and costumes and makeup, and (b) abilities to cope with criticism, competition, and conflicts. Specific phenomena contributing to conflicts included: cast and crew size, September 11, diva moments, ad libbing and upstaging, refusal to wear costumes, use of weaponry, injuries, mistakes on stage, and a fire alarm.

It is true that this production possessed a dearth of technical requirements that made varied, difficult, and complex demands on technical staff as well as actors. Most actors felt that they needed the set, props, and properties sooner. Additional problems were perceived to stem from ambivalent production staff or designers who failed to give Ted what he wanted, who communicated ineffectively, and who failed to get work done on time. Performers also painted a non-rosy picture of relationships between and among production staff and crew. This led to some personality clashes that stood in the way of collaboration and compromise. As such, actors/performers were frustrated with some technical aspects of the production. In this context, again, when frustration levels were high, use of humor was diminished.

Flo noted that the “technical things weren’t what they should have been.” She continued, “I think a lot of things were thrown together because somebody didn’t do what they were supposed to do.”

Richard added that some of the technical aspects of the show could have been better if more of the designers would have cared about their aspect of show, like the set and lighting designers. He also felt that the group could have used another week of rehearsals, in part to smooth out the technical elements of the production.

Orchestra

When the orchestra finally came into the production process, it was only three nights before the show’s opening. Three rehearsals prior to opening night was insufficient, given the complexity of the music, thus the orchestra did not really come to fruition until after the run of the production. Until then, melodies were less apparent or absent, a number of mistakes ensued, some orchestral members failed to show up when scheduled, some members spoke little English and were hard to communicate with, others neglected to watch the director and follow the performers well since they needed to read the music. This

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led to a litany of problems that, of course, increased anxieties among performers during their songs, especially since the music and vocal performances were demanding.

Actors wanted not only more time with the orchestra, but more than three initial musical rehearsals in general for vocal work. Ralph noted that the orchestra “should have worked with us a lot longer.” Tensions stemmed from the fear that the show and/or actors’ individual performances would be ineffective, that something unexpected would transpire and they would have to improvise, and/or that the audience and other authorities would disapprove of the show and/or their performances. This called into questions actors’/performers’ efficacy, the show’s through-line, and the entertainment value to the audience.

Nathan noted that anxieties stemmed from hardships in working with orchestra’s personnel; according to Nathan, they were hard to work with, both for Shawn and for the actors/performers, because they missed cues and had trouble gelling. Lillian revealed that she felt that actors’ anxieties stemmed from never having worked with an orchestra before. Ted echoed this idea as well stating, “I think that they eventually did very well. . . . It is easier for them to sing it with a piano because they are used to

[it].” Still, Shawn felt that the inclusion of an orchestra was in the best interests of the actors/performers because it gave them valuable experience for higher levels of theatre. Richard said, “I felt that we could have used about another week of rehearsal, especially with the orchestra and with the technical elements.

I think that we could have used just a little bit more time.”

Sets

Several aspects of the set made the actors/performers anxious. For one, a large platform, taking up approximately two-thirds of the stage, contained a number of items on it that moved. It further possessed facings of different heights, making the sizes of the steps up onto and off the platform variable, and was raked as well. This required careful entry and exit onto and off the platform and careful movement while maneuvering around on it. Although the platform itself arrived rather early in the rehearsal process, the facings and set pieces that moved on it came in late, which led to some problems.

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For example, the absence of facings caused one actress to trip and fall one evening, and because the movable set pieces altered performers’ blocking more or less, many grew anxious and frustrated when the set pieces finally were added later rather than sooner in the production process. Constance also noted that she found the set “a little dangerous.” She claimed that it helped that the stage managers spiked the set with glow tape, as it made it easier to see where the edges of the platforms were.

Peter claimed that the set was safer than other shows he had worked on however. He further claimed that it was safe as long as the actors/performers knew what to touch and what not to touch. In fact, Peter noted that another member of the crew and he took out staples and screws from the set, would fasten and tape parts of the set, and so on because they could not count on the shop people to take care of such safety items. Richard added, “I just think that the actors’ hard work was diminished by the fact that the scenic designer doesn’t really care, doesn’t really put any hard work into it, just half-asses everything.” He, however, did feel that the crew deserved actors’ respect because they worked hard on their roles.

Another issue regarding sets concerned how set pieces were moved on and off stage. Opening night, one set piece was not pushed all the way on stage, and therefore caused an actor to sing an entire song in semi-darkness. People had to cooperate as they learned their parts, by managing to stay out of the way while set pieces were being moved on and off stage.

Shawn, the musical director, felt that the set design should have continued further down stage since so many songs were blocked in that area. He said:

[The designer] in essence took the characters out of the world [of the production], and I don’t

think that the designers wanted to do that. . . . It makes them look bad, because if you are going

to have this character come down and sit on the side of the apron, and they are out of the world

completely, then the look is on the designers and the designer didn’t do that right. You know?

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Props and Properties

Certain props and properties were built for this production, others came from storage, yet others were purchased or rented. As early as possible, stage managers began to provided actors/performers with at least surrogate props and properties. This helped actors feel comfortable and confident while habituating to their hand-held and other stage props and properties. However, there were a couple of items that did not work well. For example, a mobile that was to come on stage periodically either ran a high risk of falling apart early on or not getting on and off stage on time; one large rented item arrived late, causing actors to worry; another prop was suppose to have a special effect associated with it that did not always work. Additionally, sometimes props or properties were not where they were supposed to be at a given time in the show. When these elements of the production did not work correctly, actors/performers became tense and worried. This led to a reduction in their use of humor.

One property item made a lot of noise coming on and going off stage. Ralph believed that the

“crank, crank, crank” sounds were distracting to the audience, and rendered the set unbelievable. He said,

“You can’t give yourself over to the experience of it [due to distracting sounds].” Ralph, however, liked the moveable set pieces used. Constance remarked that these set pieces “could have been dangerous” because people could have misjudged where they were moving from and to on stage during the show.

Peter further noted that these set pieces did not function in terms of their moving on and off stage as planned early on. Katherine repeated this idea. The shop crew failed to secure these items as required.

Peter said, “They don’t do things until they have to.” Andrew also felt that the set pieces were imperfect, but served their purposes. Ted admitted that these set pieces were hard to use early on. He stated, “It took us a while to get to a point where it actually did work well. I thought that in the final product that it worked out pretty well.” Ted added that he would have liked to have these items earlier in the rehearsal process, but noted that the shop folks did not prioritize these items in the same way that he did.

Like many others, Flo found a mobile used in the show to be poorly done at first. It took some revisions to get it into working order. Peter also noted that the mobile took various revisions before it

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was acceptable. Luke noted that the director, Ted, wanted to use the same prop, but something other than a mobile. However, in the end they all were forced to use the mobile because, after the designer balked at designing something different, it was the only solution a student could find. Andrew noted that the mobile design initially was ridiculous, so it was fortunate that a student fixed the mobile. He further noted that the set and properties designer appeared to slight the show. “He would give us some stuff that just didn’t fit, or didn’t work, or whatever. He was slow getting it out to us. . . . Some of the stuff just didn’t look right. Some of it wasn’t right, you know, but it’s like he doesn’t care.” Peter noted that it was ironic that a student rather than the set designer finally solved the mobile design. Katherine, however, experienced anxiety nightly about getting the mobile on stage on time for its entrance because doing so was tricky.

Lights

The show’s lighting was not introduced until technical rehearsals. The primary problem with the lights was that they were dim. Sometimes actors, who had been practicing their blocking a certain way since the beginning, found themselves in the dark. The lighting designer did not fix down stage dark spots, and, by all observations, actors adjusted little to compensate for an absence of light in certain pockets of the stage. Ted, however, claimed that the lighting designer moved the lights down a little bit and that he moved actors up a little bit, so they tried to compromise on the lights. Again, actors/performers still appeared to perform in the dark. This was bothersome to some of them, leading to increased frustration and anxiety.

Ralph noted, “It seemed like it was dark a lot. . . . It was just so dark. . . . I see that over and over. We don’t have enough lights. It takes hundreds and hundreds of lights to get the effects and illuminate [the stage] at the same time.” Flo noted that she felt the lights failed to create the mood desired, at least not for her. Richard added that he thought that many actors performed in darkness due to the dim lights. He thought it was too dark for everything, and that more variety would have been helpful.

Peter noted that the Department has a limited number of lights, so they had to be conservative with

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placement and angles of lights. “Then,” he said, ‘it’s up to the actors to get in the light.” Andrew further claimed that the designers did not accomplish what Ted wanted, although, according to Andrew, Ted had said, “I don’t care how we do it, just as long as it gets done.”

Shawn remarked that the lighting designer’s excuse for everything was “We don’t have enough lights.” He continued, “All of his shows look dark, and it is just his style.” Ted added that the lighting for the show was very dark, but “very mood inviting,” and was “well tied into the mood.” He clarified,

“The first act lighting was happier and brighter and more colorful. The second act is darker and more full of shadows.” Ted further commented, “I think the audience was wondering why it was so dark. These are moments and times that are dark and evil, and they need to be dark.”

Sound and Sound Effects

Sound effects did not appear to be a problem for actors/performers in general. However, their body microphones did cause some trepidation when they did not work properly and/or created noisy feedback in the auditorium. It was essential that actors/performers wore microphones for this production.

Given the amount of singing and talking many had, the orchestra, a sizable auditorium, and various soft- spoken actors/performers, they could not have sustained a level of vocal projection that would have enabled them to be heard at all times. The crew running the sound did not know what they were doing early on either, which led to a number of glitches during rehearsals and early performances, even though each actor/performers had a sound check prior to each show. This made actors/performers and staff anxious and tense.

Additionally, body microphones did not work until they had been on several seconds. It also was important to refrain from talking in the wings while body mics were on, or to turn their mics off at such times. A minimum of errors were made by either talking before the microphone system was activated or by talking off stage when the system was not yet deactivated.

Ralph noted that his microphone “echoed sometimes” and that the sound “was muffled, sometimes; he noted, “That bothered me that we could never get [the sound] right.” Ralph noted

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feedback and inconsistent volume levels as other problems. Constance added that the sound feedback sometimes was bothersome to her. She also noted that she had trouble hearing nearly everyone except

Cynthia. Andrew felt the sound for the show was fine, though he admitted that the soundboard operators were new, and as such, they experienced some problems, such as feedback, that took them time to learn how to fix.

Ted also noted that many new students were working sound. He said, “[Given we had] students learning how to do it and learning how to use it, I think the microphoning and the sound effects enhanced this production.” They were not perfect because they did not understand the equipment or the running of it fully, but without the sound, Ted noted, “we would have had a lot of trouble understanding anything.

Special Effects

Some pyrotechnics as well as chemical fog were used for this production. One night a flash pot misfired, causing some damage to an actor and their costume. Mitchell noted that he thought the set was dangerous in part due to the pyrotechnics that led to this accident. This then led to the fear that a similar accident would recur. In addition, other actors/performers experienced allergic or simply bothersome reactions to the chemical fog, again, leading to trepidation about its use. As Mitchell noted, the fog made it “hard to breathe and see” backstage and as actors/performers were coming on stage, and it seemed to get nightly.

Costumes and Makeup

Actors/performers were generally very happy with costumes and makeup. Therefore, they were more apt to joke and tease, flirt and play when dealing with these production elements. Nearly every actor/performer reported a high degree of satisfaction with costumes, makeup, and dressers. The costumer and her assistant were students who had outdone themselves in renting, pulling, and building costumes, accessories, wigs, and makeup for this show. Even the dressers were viewed positively due to their friendliness and willingness to help. These instances reflected that when satisfaction was high, humor production was high as well.

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Regarding costumes, Ralph commented, “The costumes were great.” Flo noted, “I loved the costumes. That was probably one of the favorite things about [the show]. They were wonderful.” She felt that merely seeing actors move about in their costumes would have won the audience over. Richard agreed that the costumes were very well done, and added that it was so since that a student designed them.

Sometimes the regular staff cared less and worked less diligently than the students with less effective results.

Richard did not like a wig he originally was supposed to wear. He talked to Ted about this. Ted did not like the color of the wig, according to Richard, and therefore struck it from the show. Richard then altered his own hair coloring to fulfill his director’s vision for his role. Gertrude also wore a wig, and according to Gertrude and Katherine, she was contented with it, save for an accident with a hatpin sticking her in her forehead one evening. Maria also wore a wig, which she claimed helped her sustain her character.

Peter claimed that many of the elaborate costumes in the show were rented at some expense to the

Department. It would have been much more cost effective, he noted, to make the costumes and some props. Still he believed that the costumes for the production were effective. He also complimented the dressers, especially Mitchell’s dresser. He stated, “She was, like, at [Mitchell’s] side at all times, which was her choice. She was, like, the top dresser we have. And so she wanted to make sure everything on

[Mitchell] was perfect, because he took the time to talk to her about what needed to be done, and she thought that that was great.” Mitchell, himself, was impressed with the costumes, makeup, and dressers, and how hard everyone involved with costumes worked.

Katherine agreed that the costumes for this show “were done really well.” She further indicated that most all were rented rather than built, adding, “It’s kind of abnormal because we usually pull from our own stock that we have here or build our costumes.” Thus, when costumes were not in use, they were locked up in the dressing rooms after the run of the show began. Moreover, eating, drinking, and smoking in costumes were forbidden.

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Maria felt that her costume looked cheap compared to others in the show, but admitted that most likely it looked better from the audience “because of the colors and everything and the shimmering material and stuff.” Rue thought her costume and makeup designs and changes were handled very well.

Like Mitchell, she applauded her dresser.

Ted’s opinion of the costumes and makeup was favorable. He also noted, “I think the costumes actually did help to enhance the characters and our impression of them. The makeup did too. I thought that they worked out very well. I was very pleased.”

The costumes for the production led to several conflicts for actors and perhaps the costume designer and her assistant. These are briefly outlined below. First, during the second day of blocking for

Act I, the costume designer was trying boots on John. They did not fit because he could not get them over his calves. John slapped his calves as he explained how hard it is to find boots for him because of the size of his calves. Picking up on the slapping action John was performing, the costume designer began slapping herself on different parts of her body, particularly on her breasts and hips, teasing him about parts of her body that were large also. John basically ignored her, and went on about his business.

At this point, the costume designer confessed that she only had teased him because he had slapped his legs so hard, and she found that amusing. Eventually, an appropriately fitting pair of boots was located for John.

One evening during a dress rehearsal, the costume designer and her assistant indicated to Ted that a particular actor refused to wear a hat they wanted him to wear. Reportedly, the actor had been disrespectful to them. After reporting the incident to Ted, he replied, “Would you like me to kick him out of the show?” The assistant explained that that was not their intent. Ted responded that when actors become precious, it is better to give in, because they otherwise will balk, make life miserable, and not act right on stage.

Much earlier in the rehearsal phase of production for Act II, Richard noted that he was supposed to wear a wig that he disliked a good deal; he claimed that the wig did not match his ideas of what his

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character would look like. So he asked Ted if her had to wear the wig. At first, Ted told him that he did have to wear it, but in time, Ted changed his mind, and Richard conceded to fix his hair in a manner that would simulate the effect the wig would have had.

Flo and Stella reported that their costumes were heavy and cumbersome, making it difficult for them to move. They also were hot in them under the lights. Stella stated, “It was crazy. I’m like, ‘Please hold on to me. I’m going to fall down because I’m so hot.’” She noted that Flo experienced the same thing the last few shows. Flo had a problem with part of her undergarments showing. She asked the dressers to try different methods to help her, and they could not solve the costume problem. “I got really frustrated back stage, and I had to apologize to all the dressers because I was saying, ‘Sorry this doesn’t work. . . .’ We tried different methods, and they’d get frustrated with me.”

Mitchell also noted that his was heavy and cumbersome in which to move around. He stated,

“Plus they didn’t tell me that my costume was going to weigh like eighteen pounds. They reincarnated it many times. It was a little bit of trouble getting around the stage because I had been jumping around and running around, but I couldn’t quite do that with. . . .”

Criticisms, Competition, and/or Conflict

Actors/performers worried that some fellow actors or staff members would be too critical, competitive, and/or egotistical with which to work well. Anticipating an inability to trust people or have rapport with them due to such negative perceptions fostered trepidation. Humor, on the other hand, taking on various forms and functions, helped participants deal with such anxieties as well as frustrations.

In essence, it helped them cope with criticisms, competition, and conflicts better by laughing at themselves and their situations if they could. The problem was that individuals varied in terms of their abilities to cope. Again, when stress and tensions ran high, humor desisted, only to resume again when stress levels could be reduced.

Another way to look at this trilogy of events is that criticisms and competition and resulting conflicts are inevitable parts of learning the business. Learning a craft aimed at truth and openness means

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that theatre people need to accept criticism, competition, and conflict as part of the theatre territory.

Being critical is not done for the sake of venting personal aggressions – at least not alone - rather it is done in order to develop critical thinking skills and to master the intricacies of one’s craft - to learn and grow as an artist.

Criticisms

There were various ways in which criticisms were manifested during this production. One was via notes that each director gave following rehearsals. In addition to musical notes, the artistic director gave notes concerning, for example, actors’/performers voice and diction, blocking or actions, and emotional development. These are briefly discussed in turn below. In addition, peer and audience criticisms will be discussed in short.

First, Ted, gave some notes for corrections to voice and diction work in the show. For example, he explained during an early rehearsal that the group needed to enunciate the word “world” because it sounded like “wood.” Regarding Maria’s singing, he rolled his eyes and asked me, “Did you hear her talk in pitch?” Later he asked Rue to enunciate the word “wench” so it would not be confused with “witch.”

Ted remarked to Richard, “Didn’t understand you, Mr. Brando” in order to call attention to his mumbling.

Ted also gave notes to correct movements on stage. For example, he asked Luke to turn down instead of up stage, adding “Not your best side.” He coached the ensemble by saying, “You can’t stand there like in a choir practice. You have to be active, in a pose of action during your freeze.” Ted told

Ralph that he moved more like a praying mantis than a [villainous human being]. He later told John,

“You’re singing to her nose. I can’t see your face”; he also encouraged John to walk in a stately rather than a sporting fashion. Ted reminds ensemble members that there are two Les Mis (from the musical Les

Miserables) steps in a section of his choreography, and adds, “unless I’ve gone crazy.”

Ted further made notes regarding actors’ emotional life. He asked Mattie to throw a bigger tantrum as her character, “like the crap head that she is.” He also asked Cynthia to be more melodramatic in her delivery. Because Ted thought the ending poses to the dance number at the end of Act I looked like

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“the top of a wedding cake,” he asked ensemble members to change the ending to “a growl, rising anger, and then a blackout.”

Additionally, Cynthia found feedback or criticisms from the directors beneficial for reducing uncertainty. She stated, “It always helps when you get feedback from the director. I want to know. I want to create what they want me to create because it’s their project.” She further clarified that the directors’ notes or feedback are helpful because they have a vision of what is going on that actors cannot have. She continued:

Sometimes I think, I don’t know, sometimes you have this visualization of yourself, and you

are like, I spoke that so well. I was so amazing in that scene, and then [Ted] is like, “Don’t do

that. What were your doing?” You are like. . . stab me in the heart. . . .Sometimes he’ll say,

“What I said isn’t right, you can do it the way you want.” He won’t say it in front of everyone

else, but I know if I do it the other way, it really doesn’t look good to him, and at least he’ll know.

Various actors noted that humor softened criticisms, making them more palatable. Flo noted this when she said, “It makes it funny, and I’m like, okay, it’s a joke, and I’m not so embarrassed. I can go on, and I’ll do it right this time. It keeps my mind sane I think with the humor in rehearsal. I’m not constantly criticizing myself for being dumb.” Lillian, too, stated: “I think humor always helps cause you can say serious things without hurting someone’s feelings.” She also noted, “It helps keep everything in perspective, and it brings us back around.” In this way, humor fostered group cohesion rather than conflict or competition. Constance also recognized that humor softened criticisms during note giving.

She added, “I think that the humor helped to lighten it up, and even if the note was you did something wrong, it wasn’t you did something wrong, you know, like bad. I mean it was bad, but it was like fix it, and it was in a joking way, but they know he was serious.”

Furthermore, some actors/performers registered peer criticisms. Richard noted that there were a of couple times that he used humor in front of the ensemble, then felt others criticizing him for it behind

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his back. One time he overheard his fellow actors/performers call him an “overachiever.” In response to this, he asserted to me:

It ticked me off because of the way I rehearse. It will grow, and it will change, but I’m coming

to the table with what I’ve got from the get go. If that’s how you function, great, but don’t

turn around and then belittle the way I work. Because that’s the way I work, you know, and then

you say something, and everybody’s like, “Oh, I was [only] kidding, I was kidding.” You know?

According to Katherine, Richard drew pictures of key symbols related to his role as part of his acting method. “A lot of people were giving him a lot of crap about how he was going about finding his character. That was his method. I just think that if you are going to make fun of somebody for something like that, then why are you in this field.”

Another time Richard made a grandiose gesture as a bow to be funny. He reportedly did this to relieve the tensions that were high among many at the time due to the fact that they were not getting to bow with those with whom they would have like to bow. He noted, “Everyone again made their comments.” “I have never bowed like that before in my life. I’m not going to start now,” he added. The gesture he made was a joke to break the tension inside himself as well as in others. Humor often was used during tense times. However, Richard observed that “sometimes you try to crack a joke, and you try to be funny, and you try to lighten things up, and it doesn’t work.” Instead, in these instances, Richard was criticized.

A few other actors mentioned that they grew anxious thinking about audience criticisms. This in part related to needs for approval, acceptance, and liking. However, Stella presented one example that hit home. Stella noted that her boyfriend’s mother was in attendance the Friday night after opening. This made her anxious, given, as she said, “She’s very, very critical. She is overly critical at times. It’s just like ‘Back off me, I’m sorry I’m not you.’ I worked for her. She was my boss for a while. That was definitely an interesting time. If I didn’t do things her way, they weren’t the right way. I was really

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hesitant about having her in the audience that night. Once I got out on stage I was perfectly fine. It was just waiting for that music.”

Finally, self-criticisms are discussed as part of self-disparaging humor in the second section of

Chapter 3. At this point, it bears mentioning only that actors, directors, stage managers, and others used humor aimed at making fun of themselves in order to reduce negative views, to offset stress and tension, and to bring harmony to the production process.

Competition

Competition was not high among this group of performers. Nonetheless it was present. It was present in vying for roles during auditions, in attempting to get laughs and applause from the audience during performances, and in trying to be the best they could be. There also was competition in the female dressing rooms where the key was to try to keep a humorous repartee abounding. Keeping a sense of humor helped the actors to roll with the punches, to prepare for each performance, and to deal with the unpleasantness of competition in a pleasant way. It also may have been a way to test each other’s savvy and ability to react quickly in response to versatile audiences. Indeed, there were a lot of potentially positive outcomes as a result of this particular group’s behaviors despite a modicum of inevitable competition among group members. This verbal ping-pong match was designed to treat humor as a game.

When asked about competition, Ted noted that “competition” was not quite the correct word. He indicated that actors are competitive when they are auditioning in the sense that they are striving to do the best they can for the roles they want, and often the roles they want overlap. However, after casting takes place, Ted felt that actors wanted to strive to be their best more than anything else. He stated, “They want to be ready earlier, faster, and better than anyone else. That they do want. If you can call that competition, then maybe that is what that is.”

Additionally, the musical director, Shawn, noted that, in his estimation, there was a lot of competition during the production overall. Although he said faculty tried to maintain a nurturing environment, their students characteristically were very demanding, often complaining about any variety

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of issues. He noted that the Theatre Department has everything from the bottom of the talent pool to the top. However, the largest group of actors/performers fell in the middle range. Yet they seemed to be the ones to have the most problems and complain the most. He asserted, “They feel like they are not getting their fair dues. It can turn bad spins on things a lot, and so I think we as a department are constantly fighting that here. We have people that don’t quite know how to hold themselves in a theatrical environment.”

Moreover, these people often do not understand why they were or were not cast in specific roles, even though they may be quite wrong for the roles. Shawn cited an example of an actress that wanted a lead role, but had neither the voice nor the look for it; he said, “it wouldn’t have been fair to do that to her because she would have failed in the role.”

Largely, actors whose talent is in the middle to high range are most competitive with one another, according to Shawn. People who have a low level of talent “know they are not going to get into anything,” he said; Shawn continued, “It’s kind of like they know their place. They want to audition, and get experience. Then you get these people who are on the B list and the A list that are just vicious to each other.” According to Shawn, there was a lot of gossiping and vying for attention. In addition, there was a lot of complaining, even aggression, after casting. He talked about one student who came to his office and “yelled and yelled and cursed and bitched and complained” because she did not get the part she wanted. He listened to her, but apparently she did the same thing to Ted, and he “threw her out.”

Further, Shawn noted that most directors on campus were concerned about the product rather than the learning process for students. The Department was revenue driven, according to Shawn, so they had to think about shows and performances that would draw audiences. They had to draw audiences from a community that was in competition for viewers’ patronage. As Shawn said, “Our money for our next shows comes from what we make this year.”

According to Shawn, there is one educational event produced by the Department, however, that does focus on the process and people learning. Fortunately, in this venue, the actors/performers did not

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have to look at themselves constantly in terms of whether they were measuring up; they were in a more stable place for growing and developing.

Moreover, for this production, Shawn felt that he was in competition for time to rehearse the music with actors. He also had many conflicts with his orchestra. In the former case, Ted scheduled only three musical rehearsals, and then allowed one half hour prior to most blocking and review rehearsals for vocal warm-ups. The orchestra, in the latter case, was available in its entirety only for the three dress and technical rehearsals prior to opening night. In addition, there were a variety of problems with the orchestra, most notably of which were: (a) lack of funds to hire professionals, (b) lack of rehearsal time,

(c) inexperienced and immature players, (d) players who did not speak English, and (e) players who were absent some evenings. Despite the various obstacles inherent in the orchestra, they gelled about the third performance, and managed to merge with the singers on stage and pull off a credible performance.

Conflicts

The negative incidents that occurred during the run of this production presented conflicts that, in some cases, the use of humor eventually resolved. However, while conflicts were occurring, little if any humor was used. Humor essentially was brought to a halt. Later examples are presented in the order of their significance to the actors/performers, and in terms of ascending ability for the actors’/performers and staff to find humor in them.

The artistic director, Ted, pointed out that actors/performers were keen on venting their frustrations as a means of dealing with conflicts. He particularly felt that freshmen were sensitive to others’ comments, competition, and criticisms in general. Although they should be able to resolve their problems, they more often ended up venting their feelings. He stated:

[Fighting] is a way to vent frustration a lot of times. They should be able to solve their problems

themselves one-on-one. They tend to focus on something that is irrelevant to them. They gripe

about it because it is a way to vent. I think a lot of it is just ‘What can I complain about, what is

the thing that is most wrong and irritates me the most? All right, then, that is what I will talk

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about. . . .’ I think it is just a whole lot of adrenaline going on in them, and they have to find a

way to vent it because they are not on stage. They are in the wings or they are off stage.

Remember that all of these seniors were once upon a time freshmen, and played very small roles,

and were criticized for the things that they did, and were reminded about this, that, and the other.

In addition, Ted noted that conflicts stemmed from evaluations among actors. He explained that learning to be an artist was concerned with learning a set of critical values. By time, actors shared their opinions about each other, which led to conflicts. Ted stated:

They are learning to be critical of one another and the art that one another are doing. They are

constantly evaluating themselves and their relationships with other actors, and how other actors

are doing. Sometimes it doesn’t come out very smoothly or in a very informed way because they

are young, and they are not used to it, and they don’t find quite the right form to do it.

Ted indicated that he was not worried about protecting any particular actors in this production, but he would have liked them to learn to solve their own interpersonal conflicts. After all, he claimed that a lot of what they have conflicts over is for the good of the production. At the same time, conflicts between or among actors/performers cannot happen on stage; this also is for the good of the production.

“If they can’t, then that is what I am here for. The teacher in me is there. I don’t have this problem particularly with professionals,” he asserted. However, during this production, Ted noted, “They are playing in my ball field. They have to sort of deal with [each other in] the way that I determine they should be dealt with in a rehearsal.” There were varied life stressors as well as the September 11, 2001 crises with terrorism that transpired during this production process. Ted said, “I think that most of them did very well handling the life crises that were going on in their lives and in the country at the time. I think that some handled it a little bit better than others.”

Ted indicated that actors/performers and directors needed to be sensitive to one another during the show. Sensitivity could be effective in reducing conflicts among participants. Ultimately, however, he noted that everyone’s commitment to the play should come first. He likened the relationship between

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actors/performers and the directors to a marriage, although it had been suggested that he viewed his productions as his children. He stated:

It is like a marriage in many ways. You may have things that you are mad at your spouse about,

but you are still married, and you still love each other, and the marriage comes first. Since it is

my musical and my play, we looked at it through my eyes. Other directors . . . and other actors

may look at it differently. If I do three plays a year, they are my three children of the year, or my

three marriages of the year, or my three artistic offerings of the year. Often times, they are

painted with young, immature, imperfect paint ingredients, but they are the artistry of the

operative world because there are things that I have inside me that I need to say. That is what

makes me an artist.

Mattie noted that keeping the atmosphere light via humor helped minimize conflicts. It does this by keeping moods and emotions in tact. She stated:

In the rehearsal process, it’s so important to, like, stay buddy-buddy with people because it’s

really easy to get really angry with people you work with because they are not doing something

you want them to do, or they are doing something that you don’t want them to do. You have to

keep the atmosphere light, and you have to joke around. You have to be fun. It’s really

important I think to keep everybody focused.

Mattie continued to assert that humor helps actors avoid conflicts in their on stage relationships, such as when an actor needs to become upset with a fellow actor in a scene.

Cast and crew size.

Overall, it was suggested that the smaller the cast, the more integrated the actors and crew. The larger the cast, the more separate and divided the group. With a rather large cast, the actors became independent from the crew, but remained rather homogeneous among themselves. This led to some conflicts stemming from competition for attention, approval, respect, liking, and compliments. Two stage managers, Andrew and Katherine, noted this pattern. Andrew noted that, unlike this production, when he

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was working on another show with a small cast and crew, they had all kinds of fun joking on the headset communication systems. “I mean, actors would, you know, put their two cents in . . . going back and forth about stuff, and they’d make fun of each other, and you know, and it was just completely lighthearted.”

Katherine felt that Ted was generally as humorous as he normally was with cast members, but she also indicated that the size of the cast and who was in it had something to do with everyone’s humor. She went on to explain that generally the larger the cast and the newer the members of the cast, the more one has to watch how much and what kind of humor he or she uses; she said, “[Ted] . . . wants to keep people here, and he wants to entice people to transfer to the Theatre Department. He does whatever he can do. . .

.” So Katherine felt that Ted probably adapted his humor somewhat to fit this group – myself included – although his humor was typical for him based on other experiences she had had with him.

September 11.

Perhaps the key turning point for this production came on September 11, 2001, which was approximately half way through the rehearsal process prior to productions. Despite the terrorist acts committed against the United States in New York City, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania that day, rehearsal was not cancelled. The majority did not want to be there, thus they experienced internal dissonance. Still everyone came to the rehearsal. By the researcher’s observations, the cast and stage managers masked their negative attitudes well, at least publicly. Participants revealed their true feelings in interviews, whereupon the researcher learned that there was more than met the eye; there was a disparaging feeling of resentment against the director. Mostly actors were upset with the artistic director’s decision to hold rehearsal. They also were upset about the state of the nation at the time.

The actors and stage managers also disagreed with the artistic director regarding his decision to not allow them to watch the United States President’s special television address that night. One of the stage managers instead became everyone’s eyes and ears, while the cast continued to rehearse. After

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watching the President’s address on a television located off stage, the stage manager then reported what was said to the cast.

Although Ted explicated his reasons to me in our interview, most people disagreed with his decision to hold rehearsal September 11. Many were worried about friends and/or relatives in New York

City or generally distressed about the heinous acts toward our country. This led to anger, frustration, and disgust at the artistic director who had called the rehearsal.

Diva moments.

Another area of conflict between and among performers consisted of diva moments. A diva moment was defined as one wherein an individual wanted something over, above, and beyond that which others wanted and/or wherein an individual fought to get his or her own way despite others. They consisted of tantrums in order to get their own way regarding some aspect of the show. Most actors could name a handful of actors who periodically acted like divas, and most deemed such behaviors as annoying, but not necessarily destructive to the production. It could be catty and evidenced in actors’ treatment of the crew by demanding that tasks be carried out in particular ways for them. Some perceived certain conflicts as the result of diva moments. Further, diva moments could affect stage relationships, but not in this production. So there was a moderate amount of joking about divas, particularly in the dressing rooms and other back regions. There also was recognition that some of these behaviors came with the territory.

Thus, although annoying, most came to accept diva moments as normal, and managed to maintain their equilibrium despite occasional flair-ups.

Ad libbing and upstaging.

Ad libbing and upstaging became bones of contention among the actors themselves. First, many contended that there was a lot of ad libbing going on onstage, which they felt ran the risk of throwing fellow actors/performers off when it occurred frequently. They could name offenders readily. Although some of the offenders reported using ad libbing in order to keep their acting fresh and spontaneous, they ran the risk of letting others down and/or of upstaging others. The artistic director addressed ad libbing

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during notes and green room talks, but not as emphatically as various actors/performers would have liked.

He also addressed upstaging. His manner of addressing these areas of concern was to ask actors to stick to their original intentions and to let their intentions grow fuller and richer rather than to allow them to change. This was less reprimanding than some would have liked, but, indeed, actors differed in terms of how much ad libbing or change was natural versus unwarranted.

How liberal versus how conservative the actors/performers and staff were regarding ad libbing, indeed, varied. Nathan was liberal about it. Like Nathan, some viewed it as a natural part of the process of growing comfortable with your role – natural to the extent that the intentions stay the same, but that the embodiment of a character within his or her circumstances grows clearer and fuller. It appeared to be the very conservative individuals who desired to have the game played strictly by the rules, thereby deeming ad libbing as unethical and unwarranted in virtually each and every situation. Mitchell was one of such individuals. The artistic director appeared to be more liberal than conservative on this issue. In all cases, ad libbing was a topic that extinguished humorous interchanges between and among those discussing it.

Weaponry.

Two incidents involved the use of weaponry. The first was a knife that Mattie carried during the show. She cut her finger on the knife the last dress rehearsal, even though she had been warned not to play with it. Peter, the stage manager, stated, “It was a real knife, and I told [Mattie], ‘It’s a real knife, so don’t touch it.’ I swear I told her ten times because . . . I saw her playing with it [in rehearsals].” Peter reported that Mattie was given first aid. Though she did not have a weapon’s master, Peter felt that might have helped her.

In another incident, John was reprimanded one performance evening for misusing his weapon backstage. A member of the crew assigned to be the weapons’ master noted that John had used his weapon inappropriately based on another crew member’s testimony. He therefore ordered John to relinquish his weapon to him each evening until he was ready to use it on stage. This solution was non- consensual, though the stage managers stood behind the weapon master. This hurt the actor’s feelings,

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for he claimed that he did not misuse his weapon. A couple of major altercations between the actor and weapon master ensured backstage as a result.

This was exacerbated by the fact, as Katherine noted, that everyone on headset heard this fight through her headset communication system, which was turned on. As a result, this created a ripple of discussion about whether the actor actually committed the feat they said he did, how appropriate the solution was, and how volatile the actors’ and staff members’ temperaments were. Hence, this became an example illustrative of a conflict that stirred controversy and reportedly caused some disparaging humor.

Injuries.

Injuries involved in this production caused humor to cease momentarily until it was determined that each actor was all right. After fear and concern subsided, there was some humorous bantering in some instances by the injured themselves as well as from others.

During a review rehearsal of Act II, Stella tripped on unfinished set facing and fell to the ground.

After her fall, Peter called for a break so that he could tend to Stella. Stella explained to me that some facing on the front of the main platform was loose and pulled away from the deck such that the heel of her show was able to slip down in between when she went to step down off the deck, causing her to fall.

People were worried, Stella was embarrassed, and once it was determined that she was unharmed, they began to laugh with nervous relief.

During another review rehearsal for Act II, both the musical director, Shawn, and Cynthia had on wrist braces. Cynthia informed me that she had hurt her wrist during a blocked fall the night before. She felt that her wrist would be fine by the weekend. She simply wanted to take precautions against further injury. Shawn wore his wrist brace for only a while, claiming that he too was taking precautions against a strained muscle in his arm that was caused by lifting something. There was no humor involved in either case.

The pyrotechnic specialist for the show explained to the ensemble that they needed to remain five to six feet away from two flash pots that were to go off during the show. However, Rue remained too

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close by this evening, and sustained slight burns to her right elbow and underarm. She required minimal treatment. This incident was non-amusing.

In a case during the first dress rehearsal, a dresser, in putting a hat on Gertrude, stuck her with a hatpin, causing her head to bleed. Although Gertrude refused to go to an emergency room, the pain and bleeding made her nauseous and faint. After a while, she claimed that she had a very bad headache. The stage managers, however, would not let her leave rehearsal since she refused treatment; even Ted told her that since they opened their show in a few days he did not want her to leave. This event was not being funny at the time or afterwards.

In another case, Mitchell twisted his ankle on the raked stage stepping down off the platform. He claimed that it was due to a pair of boots he was wearing with slippery soles. Katherine noted, “He gets hurt a lot.” Mitchell claimed that their costume idea was a good one, but harmful to him because his boots were too slick. Although painful for him, Mitchell performed after this event during the run of the show with a cane and walking stick. However, his medical doctor had him on crutches when he was not on stage, and he claimed that that he was worn out form walking around campus with them all day.

Finally, one night after the show was in progress, Blake fell off the upstage most runway study platform. He had been warned about watching his step on this platform previously, as he had come close to falling off of it. The reason for this was because his character was inebriated, so once he became immersed in his character, he would swagger and stagger while crossing this set piece from stage right to stage left. Fortunately, he fell onto soft items behind the set in the crossover space, so he did not suffer any major injuries. Indeed, the audience thought it was a planned event, and, finding it amusing, laughed robustly.

Interpersonal conflicts.

Ted noted during performances that “familiarity breeds contempt.” Some interpersonal conflicts, that is, resulted from the closeness of participants throughout the production process. Togetherness can cause frictions and conflicts between and among people. Most all such conflicts have been discussed

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under various other sections of this Chapter. Below is one more incident that created conflicts for a variety of actors/performers, staff, and crew.

Apparently there was a female member of the crew who was hugging and clinging to male members of the cast and crew. According to Katherine, various actors had complained to Ted, and Ted came to Katherine. He told her that it had come to his attention that this was going on, actors were very uncomfortable with it, and he would like for her to talk to the student. According to Katherine, he said, “I don’t want you to offend her or hurt her feelings. I don’t want you to discourage her from auditioning or working on any other shows. It needs to be dealt with, and I feel it would be best coming from you, another woman.” Katherine was very nervous about confronting this student, so she solicited Andrew’s help. They were relieved by the success of the discussion, and never had a problem with her again.

Fire alarm.

Rue noted that many actors were angered when the fire alarm went off, stopping their last performance toward the end of Act I. Although Rue could laugh and joke about it, some people reportedly became angry—“a couple in particular, who were very angry about it.”

Pyrotechnics used in this production caused a fire alarm to go off. This was cause for concern initially, given no one knew what had caused the alarm to sound. Everyone was required to exit the auditorium and stage. There was a moderate delay before returning to complete the show. Some audience members failed to return to the show, and several actors were irritated that the last show was interrupted with a fire drill. Apparently, a smoke alarm had not been turned off, so the use of pyrotechnics in the show set off the alarm.

The show went on without any further problems after the Fire Department gave their okay.

Mitchell came to the down stage right area prior to the start up of the show, and told the audience, “It was going so well before the interruption, I guess you could say we were on fire.” Folks laughed and clapped as the orchestra stuck a high note. Act I then resumed, and was completed. After a short break, Act II

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commenced and ran its usual course until the end. After all the trouble, the applause from the audience was especially robust.

The Interior Spaces: What Role Did Humor Play in Helping to Cope with Stress,

Tensions, and/or Anxieties?

In this fifth major section of Chapter 3, the focus is on the role of humor in helping participants cope with stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. Function has to do with the purposes of play and humor.

Humor operated as a specific type of confidence building technique related to social interactions, helping participants to deal with each other and their situations. It did this through a variety of means.

Specifically, humor aided participants in coping with stress, tensions, and/or anxieties during the production process in the following ways. The first of five major sub-categories in this Chapter— building confidence and esteem—is subdivided into four categories: (a) reducing tensions through self- help methods, (b) releasing and reducing tensions from criticisms, competition, conflicts, and seriousness,

(c) reducing tensions through positive feedback, compliment, and encouragements, and (d) reducing tensions through acceptance of diversity and preparation. The second major sub-category—socializing— is subdivided as follows: (a) relational development, (b) group cohesion and membership through the use of inside humor, (c) leveling the playing field between and among participants, (d) socializing outside of the production, and (e) relationships with authority figures. The third major sub-category—regulation of moods and emotions—is divided into (a) positive moods and emotions, (b) negative moods and emotions, and (c) transformation into characters. The fourth major sub-category—creativity and spontaneity— consists of the following subdivisions: (a) boosts to creativity, including the freedom to create, improvisation, and spontaneity, and (b) limitations on creativity, including lack of change, lack of feedback, and setting the show. And the fifth and final major sub-category—rituals and superstitions—is broken down into (a) superstitious rituals, including pre-show and Acts I and II dances, actors’/performers’ preparation, dressing room humor, and one-liner rituals, and (b) playful rituals,

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including headset humor, new lyrics, graffiti, objects/clothing, green gaffer’s tape, and conventional rituals.

Confidence or Esteem Boosters

It is apparent from most participants that two specific outcomes of humor are to have fun by engaging in play-like behaviors, and to build comfort and confidence. In the face of such tensions, participants generally agreed that humor served the valuable function of enhancing everyone’s comfort zone, and making the rehearsal and entire production process more palatable and productive. Humor offered this kind of advantage, given it helped people unwind, loosen up, relax, and not only to be themselves, but to draw upon themselves for creative inspiration. One student referred to humor as an

“esteem booster” in and of itself.

The examples provided below are the result of asking participants what boosted their confidence or esteem. Responses mirror the outline of this Chapter. In addition to esteem boosters, participants indicated socialization, mood and emotional regulation, creativity and spontaneity as key means of enhancing confidence, and superstitions or rituals.

Reducing Tensions Through Self-Help Methods

Actors/performers indicated different ways in which they tried to offset their stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. Humor certainly was one key way in which anxieties were mediated for nearly everyone. In addition, however, many used positive self-talk methods and preparation. Fewer used physical methods of relaxation. Examples follow.

Nathan noted that he was learning to meditate to learn to relax and offset his performance anxieties. Hilda’s method of coping with her anxiety was to engage in humor. Bettie noted that the use of humor backstage helped to break up tensions on stage as well. Richard reported that he worried about the show doing well due to lack of talent, but once the talent was secured, he was calm and ready to go.

Constance used some mental talk to pump herself up about her friends coming to see the show like “I have to do a good performance” or “Don’t mess up, [Constance].”

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Mitchell noted that when he got nervous, such as when he was assigned to speaking directly to the audience following their return from a fire drill during the last performance, he had to talk himself into calming down and trying to build rapport with the audience. Trying to use some humor to take off the seriousness of the situation was another way in which Mitchell helped to calm himself as well as others backstage during the fire drill. He further noted that seeing others nervous made him want to help them to the point that he calmed himself.

What helped Luke was tying to keep a calm and quiet mindset, perhaps some deep breathing exercises and warm ups. But perhaps most importantly, he noted, “Really knowing everything just to the point where I probably wouldn’t even have to think of it, like I could just go on auto pilot if I needed my lines . . . or my singing to do that. And being able to trust other people that you are on stage with. Like you said, having rapport with them.”

Rue used careful preparation of her roles to help her with her anxieties Rue further helped Maria with her anxieties by helping her to adopt a method of preparing her role that would give her a handle on it. Maria stated, “[Rue] gave me a lot of hints. . . , just different ways to set up the scene. I wrote up a two-page paper about it.”

Blake asserted that some anxiety was good for actors, so he tried to harness his in order to serve as a catalyst to vital energy required to do well in his role. In fact, he said, “People who are confident about themselves are not good actors.” Lillian also appreciated that anxieties could be beneficial on stage. She referred to her anxieties as “excited,” a positive way to help herself harness her nerves rather than rob her of vital energy.

Releasing and Reducing Tensions From Criticisms and Seriousness

Another way in which humor built confidence was by releasing and reducing tensions. Luke found humor helped him loosen up around others enough to get comfortable with them on and off stage.

However, he recognized that humor used inappropriately during serious times could be annoying.

Richard also noted that it was his style to engage frequently in humor to break up the tension inside

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himself as well as others. Further, Ted, noted that he found humor to significantly break tensions inherent in stage work. He encouraged the use of it, noting that it was a typical part of theatre work for this reason. “I think it is a very valid thing. I am not the only person who does it. All actors do it, and most directors do it,” he asserted. In fact, Ted noted that although actors are more relaxed and confident in many ways than most people, they crave positive feedback and compliments that release tensions and help boost their self-worth and self-confidence.

Lillian added that socializing and having fun with cohorts helped “to keep things light” and release “a lot of the tensions [inherent in theatre productions].” She also felt that humor was a key way to deal with criticisms and the serious business of theatre without hurting others’ feelings. In fact, she revealed that she was hesitant to give fellow actors advise about their work because she did not want to say something that would add to their stress. Lillian responded that she said things like, “I can’t tell you what to do, you know, that’s your decision. . . . You know, but I would only tell somebody . . . if they ever asked me. It’s not my job. I have no place to just offer up comments . . . or say you’re mugging.”

When actors, however, did offer up unsolicited comments, this led to conflicts and complications in their relationships. So, as Lillian contended, restraint in one’s criticisms of others was the better part of valor.

Back stage life was fun for actors, yet some of the events going on in the female’s dressing room created tension. Dressing rooms involved various quick changes, costume repairs, and complaints about discomforts or problems on stage with costumes, thus it was a more stressful environment in the dressing rooms than back stage where, historically, performers had been cutting up and having fun during performances.

Relational barriers also contributed to tensions. These were most pronounced, according to

Bettie, between actors and crew. “I’ve been on a lot of crews, and so I try hard to make sure the crew is part of the show. I know how it feels to be like, ‘Were you on that show? Did you even work it?’ Once again, it’s back to the appreciation factor,” Bettie said. According to Bettie, performers often become self-absorbed and forget about the importance of the crew. Still without the crew, no show would be as

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good. When the crew for this production returned to classes, freshmen were asked to write papers about their experiences. Their papers reportedly expressed concerns about how they were treated by cast members. Bettie stated, “A lot of people were upset about how the cast was treating the crew. They felt like there were diva trips, and stuff like that. They felt like [cast members] were treating [the crew] badly.”

Another leading theme regarding the use of humor in this context was its ability to soften criticisms, to aid in constructive competition, and to mediate conflicts. There are two types of criticisms—those we receive from other people and those we register with ourselves, either about others or ourselves. Softening criticisms does not mean that criticisms are denied, watered down, or dismissed.

Rather it means that, when presented humorously, they are easier to digest. They are more palatable, and, therefore, more likely to be comprehended and ameliorated.

As one student put it, “humor takes the sting out of criticism.” Another key way in which humor fostered confidence was by softening the criticisms actors received from directors, peers, stage management, other theatre staff, and audiences. Constance also noted that humor helped to soften criticisms, thus allowing others to remain confident despite their mistakes and/or personal shortcomings.

When presenting criticisms with humor, there is less chance of hurting someone’s feelings. Also when coping with others’ criticisms, humor helped motivate actors to want to fix their problems. It did this not only by helping people “save face,” as one student said, but by assuring them that the criticizer, usually a director, wanted them to grow and improve. When he or she was felt to be on the actor’s side, the actor thrived.

It further was comforting for peers to know that they could joke with one another—an alternative way of showing love toward each other, one actor noted—even though they also were competing with one another. This was true as long as the criticism was forthright. Veiled or masked humor with a sharp, even malicious edge led to conflicts, and became destructive to actors. So openness and trust were important traits to cultivate despite the kind of humor being used. Although it was beneficial to disguise

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their intent sometimes, such as those times when their true feelings would offend or hurt someone, generally the best kind of humor was open and constructive. It may have been a little wicked, but failed to become unproductive. For example, humor perceived to be a “Diva moment”—centered on the self and getting one’s own way—was noted to turn cast and crew members against one another. It turned people off, leading to conflicts. On the other hand, humor that pointed out that our singing woulb be improved if we sounded less like a Methodist choir was sarcastic, but said in a spirit of fun designed to help the group perform better. The group failed to respond to the former with laughter, but laughed openly at the latter scenario.

According to this study’s artistic director, Ted, actors/performers engaged in a good deal of self- doubt brought on by pressures to do well for themselves as well as others. They also reported that actors tended to take themselves too seriously sometimes. If actors/performers were not feeling well about themselves, they began to grow overly self-conscious and self-doubting. This led to increased self- criticisms and the tendency to take others’ feedback personally. The results were feelings of low self- esteem, defensiveness, and an inability to work spontaneously and creatively, which potentially could lead to depression, anger, and/or anxiety. Actors in this state of mind generally lost their sense of humor and play.

Reducing Tensions Through Positive Feedback, Compliments, and Encouragements

Some needed it more, according to Ted, but most sought approval, acceptance, and/or liking some of the time. They “are always looking for positive feedback,” he said. He continued, “I think that there are just some actors that need you to say that was bad, that was good. They need the balance of good and bad. They need the feedback because they are less comfortable until they actually get that end result.”

The musical director, Shawn, noted too that actors had a high need for approval, liking, and positive feedback.

Compliments are a specific form of positive feedback that demonstrate approval, acceptance, and/or liking of actors/performers, according to Ted. He noted that compliments both from peers and

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directors build confidence. As for himself, Ted pointed out that he tended to praise students under two conditions: “If I think that they have had some breakthrough or insight, than I usually [compliment them]; if they have corrected something that didn’t go well before, then I usually try to commend them on that.” Ted noted moreover that his compliments often did not come during notes, but during the day. “I try to make [compliments] more personal, so I don’t do it as much publicly. Sometimes I do, but not a lot.”

Whereas compliments were given in private or during notes, Ted and Shawn did make it a point to demonstrate their support of actors/performers in terms of what they said to the ensemble as a whole at the beginning or the end of rehearsals as well. For example, after the artistic director’s, Ted’s, opening remarks during his last blocking rehearsal for Act I, he reminded actors/performers that he cared for them.

He said, “Just be patient, and write me a big check”; folks chuckled, after which Ted added, “Remember I love you.” Rehearsal followed immediately, with Ted, in particular, appearing to be contented, and the cast relaxed and free to be themselves. Ted repeated this phenomenon at the beginning and end of rehearsals and performances from here until the end of the run. Shawn, the musical director, also noted to the actors/performers early on in the blocking rehearsals for the actors/performers to take care of their voices, and reminded them that he loved them. He, too, continued to remind actors/performers of his support on this way throughout the production process.

John noted in his interview that humor helped him to feel liked and welcomed into this production group. He felt that the humor helped the director to encourage and support actors/performers, especially himself. He stated:

What was really cool was [Ted] actually liked, really liked me. He would always come and sit

next to me and talk to me, and stuff like that. He would always make jokes. We would make

jokes back and forth, and this was before I really knew him. I mean he was actually very

encouraging to me. I mean he listened, aside from all the rest of the people. He was always

joking around with us, and that’s fun.

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John further noted that he has needed approval and encouragement from others to do well. He stated:

“When it comes to the theatre, I really need some kind of help from people or some kind of

recognition from people, and if they don’t give me that, it really doesn’t encourage me to go back

out on stage and do better.” He admitted, however, that he had been doing better at going on

stage to do his best without focusing on what others thought of him.

On the other hand, there were actors who found Ted hard to read, non-communicative, perhaps disapproving. For these individuals, ambiguous feedback and approval made them feel anxious and tense. They, thus, experienced a lack of encouragement and support.

Reducing Tensions Through Acceptance and Preparation

Katherine pointed out another interesting aspect of humor usage and approval and liking in the theatre – namely, that theatre people have wide latitudes of acceptance for diversity. For example, she talked about sexual orientations and physical and sexual humor, noting that she felt theatre people openly embraced these phenomena in order to remain open minded and accepting. Humor also, according to

Katherine, served to help actors/performers run off excess adrenaline in order to calm down and perform well on stage. She said:

If they are doing stuff like jumping around or whatever backstage, then sometimes that helps get

their blood flowing or gets their circulation going. When they walk out on stage, they can just

explode with it, and it’s not going to take them a while to settle into what’s going on. I think that

the sex stuff and the copulating, I think that kind of [runs off that energy]. Plus it’s just that the

theatre department and people are so sexually oriented about everything that people say anyway.

Katherine further noted that theatre people, due to the nature of their work, are generally open, uninhibited, and vulnerable. They have a lot of energy, using their predispositions to express themselves sexually in physical and psychological ways as a means of running off excess energy and, thereby, working honestly and openly. She admitted too that students in other University colleges and

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departments, like Business, might be brought up on sexual harassment charges for behaviors similar to those of theatre students, but theatre students would not likely experience such ramifications in their venue. This, she explained, is due to greater latitude of acceptance for one another’s differences dictated by the intimacy of actors/performers on stage.

Finally, the artistic director, Ted, believed that his department provided students with training and degrees that helped them gain ease with other people. “They can make themselves easily likeable, easily understandable, and easy communication-wise, usually funny, usually fearless, entertaining, and versatile for lots of kinds of jobs, particularly in sales and in any end of the media business,” he noted. In other words, the theatre serves as a training ground for people who are generally approved of, accepted, and liked.

Socializing

Since humor builds camaraderie and rapport, it is an advantageous way to develop new relationships. In new relationships, humor served to break the ice and develop trust and safety. However, in new relationships, humor needed to be used with caution. In ongoing relationships, humor continued to help participants do their jobs. Building relationships through humor helped everyone feel liked and welcomed. It also helped participants to work on their role relationships in the show more constructively, blend in with the family culture of the Department, and to relax and be themselves. Overall then humor helped to socialize students as noted below.

Relational Development

Developing relationships through humor helped actors/performers to have fun and to work together both on and off stage. Mattie noted that she liked to couple work and fun to keep her confidence high. She stated: “[Ted] said numerous times how he wants you to have fun, but it’s also work. You have to. That is the bottom line. [Humor] is probably the number one important thing. Yes. It makes you closer to other people. It’s easier to work with people you are going to have fun with.”

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Lillian also talked about work and fun going together. Using humor to keep things light and in perspective meant, according to Lillian, that humor helped the transition from being in character on stage to being oneself off stage. She cited role preparation as a key to building confidence in one’s work in addition. Maria further noted that part of getting her acting/performing role together involved “cutting up and socializing with the other people or with [Shawn] or [Ted].” Interacting, laughing, and working with others was important.

Bettie also noted that despite the type of humor used, it generally helped to “break the ice” and allow actors/performers to become “more comfortable in being vulnerable, which is basically what you have to be on stage if you want to come across as anything real.” She also cited getting to know others as another way of building confidence. Rue agreed with Bettie’s ideas regarding the role of humor in relationship development, and added that it was better to enjoy things you cannot change than to become angry about them.

John found various relationships during the run of the show helpful to him. First, Ted made him feel liked and welcomed, as a freshman student new to the University. John said, “What was really cool was [Ted] actually liked, really liked me. . . . I mean he was actually very encouraging to me. I mean he listened, aside from all the rest of the people. He was very nice, and he was very, he was always joking around with us, and that’s fun.” In addition, John’s relationships with Luke and Cynthia helped them act together on stage, but his relationships with Flo and Stella, and later Nathan, Bettie, and Rue were social and uplifting. Luke and John rehearsed scenes together back stage while joking around, and Cynthia provided advise to him for working on areas with which John was having some concerns. However, as far as Cynthia and John were concerned in terms of their stage roles, in addition to joking around, he said,

“We just let it flow. . . .” Regarding his social relationships, John stated:

Yes, [Flo and Stella and I] were always in the back. I’d carry stuff [for them], and things like

that. We got along really well. You know, in the beginning, they were the people I talked to, but

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in the end, it became like [Nathan] and [Bettie] . . . and [Rue], they became my good friends. The

older seniors, and stuff like that. I got along with pretty much everyone.

John was pleased that he got along so well with the upper classmen, and could be part of their circle of friends, joking and playing together during rehearsals.

Nathan agreed that socializing with fellow actors/performers, both within and outside of rehearsals, helped working relationships. Rather than joking nonstop, Nathan noted that he needed to warm up to people, so although he appreciated a trait-like humorist, he felt more comfortable with people who were moderate and playful with their humor, especially people he knew and with whom he had socialized before. Nathan said:

I think having [Cynthia] as a person to play off of most helped a lot. Not because we have some

magic chemistry. . ., because I’m comfortable with [Cynthia]. I like [Cynthia]. I’ve known

[Cynthia]. We don’t hang out every night, but I definitely know [Cynthia] in a social situation.

It’s hard to not know someone in this department.

Nathan further noted that the Department fostered relationships with new and old students due to its small size and repeated opportunities for interactions with each other. He stated, “You know everyone. You really do, even the freshmen. By the end of [this show], I knew [John] pretty well. . . .

I’m going to be in twelve more plays with [Cynthia], and if [Nathan] wasn’t graduating, I’d be in more with him.”

Mattie described the Department as having a family atmosphere. Not that people did not experience competition and gossip, but she said: “I would say overall at [this University], it’s a real family environment here. It’s really family, that’s what I would say. Everybody is really nice to each other, originally and genuinely nice compared to [other universities where] everyone there is just so, like, it’s so fake and on the surface.”

Mattie admitted that the competition and gossip in their Department was in her opinion less than other places. She asserted, “I like the environment here. I’m tired of some of the people, but that’s

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probably what you are going to deal with. Everybody isn’t that competitive. My high school was worse than it is here.” Mattie added that, when auditioning, she felt that “everybody that’s watching you wants you to do awesome”; when performing in general, “Nobody is saying, I hope she blows it. I’ve never felt that way when I’m up on stage. Everybody is like you can do this, and that’s really a good feeling.”

Mattie also added that students in the Theatre Department spend a lot of time socializing together.

She explained: “We have theatre outings. We all go to the cast parties, and we do things together. We have a lounge, so in between classes, everyone can sit around. . . . Everybody is very open, and everybody likes me. . . .” Later Mattie explained that she had a special relationship with some gay males.

For example, she noted: “They grab my butt, and it’s not a big deal. We have a game we play actually that’s stupid and funny. Sometimes I’ll just be walking down the hallway, and somebody will pick me up and throw me over his shoulder. It’s like, ‘Oh, here we go again.”

As Mattie pointed out, behaviors such as these are fine in the Theatre Department. Humor like this, she explained, “makes you closer to the other people. It’s easier to work with people that you are going to have fun with.”

Bettie claimed that humor was “a huge icebreaker.” She said, “I think it’s how you get to trust people. It’s just, a lot of it is, ‘Am I safe to try this with you, or are they going to laugh at me, or are they going to laugh at what I’m doing.’” Funny actions “break the ice, and they help [performers] become more comfortable in being vulnerable, which is basically what you have to be on stage if you want to come across as anything real,” she asserted.

Bettie further noted that back stage humor helped develop esprit de corps among actors/performers. She noted that the back stage life of actors/performers was “a completely different show I think”; she added, “We don’t get to see the finished product, but we have fun backstage. It’s a lot of camaraderie.” She also noted:

I don’t think you really know people until you start running the show because that’s when you are

spending all the time with them. Before you’re up in the house, you are doing your homework,

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you are reading your theatre history stuff. Then you’re like, “Oh, it’s my turn to go on stage,”

and you write down your blocking, and you go back to the house.

Richard felt that people tried to establish good working relationships for the good of the show.

He stated:

You interact with people, and you kind of realize that you are there for a common purpose, you

know? A show is going to look as good as it’s weakest part . . . so you deal with each other, and

you relate with each other, and sometimes, for example, I could have hated [Mattie] . . . and she

could have hated [me], but the thing is that no matter what happens off stage, you have to walk on

stage, and be as convincing as you possibly can be. For the most part, the cast did get along.

Richard also noted that it helped to know people coming into the show because it created camaraderie. It helped with comfort levels, especially for perhaps intimate work on stage, and this, again, ultimately helped the show.

Rue saw humor as an important vehicle for getting to know people. She said:

I think that it’s good to be able to get along with them because when you are trying to work out

bits [in scenes], if you come up with one, and someone else doesn’t want to do it just to spite you,

then that kind of ruins the purpose of. . . , you know what I mean? I think it is good to know

everybody.

She noted that relationship building occurs most noticeably when actors/performers first get their roles and then during back stage encounters. During various back stage encounters, for example, she talked with and even did Maria’s hair in an effort to develop not only a personal relationship, but strengthened their role relationship together for on stage work also.

Cynthia, interestingly, noted that she disliked the dressing room behaviors of females, and focused on three one-on-one relationships that she had developed for the purpose of building her stage role. First, the male actors, particularly gay male actors, in this production agreed to let Cynthia dress in their dressing room. She stated, “I just don’t like girls in general. They are very screechy and loud. . . .

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They talk about such nonsense. . . . I can’t hear my calls and my cues.” She also noted that there were a lot of females in this show, a lot of freshmen, and large costumes. So Cynthia asked the gay males if she could get ready with them. She said:

We each had like three dressing spaces back in the guys’. They have all seen me. It wasn’t like

they were seeing anything wonderfully important. I was naked in front of them before. It wasn’t

like I hadn’t seen them in theatre. Some people were like they had an issue. The girls were all

like, ‘Oh, God!’ If the girls didn’t laugh so loud all the time, then I could hear my cues, and I’d

stay over with you. They all had a little bit too much fun, I guess.

Concerning Cynthia’s intense one-on-one relationships, she noted that she teased and flirted with

John in order to break down relational barriers, and claimed that this helped them develop their stage roles. With Nathan, Cynthia worked harder, even over the summer, getting to know him and getting him to warm up to her. She had been in a play the previous year with Nathan when he did not want to touch her face. “He just didn’t want to touch my face, like I was an upperclassman, and he had never really had a lead here. He just didn’t want to. . . .” After socializing with him a few times during the summer over meals, he was able to feel better with her, and their stage relationship in this show worked because of it.

Finally, Cynthia noted that her relationship with Rue involved serious interpersonal conversations, talking as friends. It did not involve humor like her relationships with John and Nathan did.

Luke noted that humor helped people to relax around one another. He said, “Well, it helps me to loosen up around other people, and get comfortable with them. But usually, I’m one of the more quiet people in the cast.” As much as it helped to relax and loosen everyone up, however, humor could become annoying if overdone, he added.

Maria noted that humor helped to build relationships with others and free oneself in order to be relaxed, positive, and creative. She stated that “Sitting around and talking with [other performers] just made the atmosphere better. . . . It was more positive, more comfortable.” She claimed that she lived on the set, talking with Andrew, John, and others. She considered these two plus another member of the

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crew to be her friends during the production, but admittedly did not hang out with anyone outside of rehearsals.

Andrew, one of the assistant stage managers, noted that humor was effective in leveling the playing field for actors/performers. He noted this, in particular, in relation to members of the crew and production staff and their headset communication humor. By making fun of actors/performers and others on their headsets, the staff and crew were able to ease tensions and feel connected to each other and the show. He said that “they’d make fun of each other, and, you know, and it was just completely lighthearted.” He claimed that actors got all the attention anyway, so the headset humor among the staff and crew provided attention and built relationships. In addition, he revealed, “One of the things you do on headset is you take the songs that are in a musical, and you write new lyrics to them,” presumably lyrics that are humorous and entertaining. All of this helped the staff and crew to deal with unpleasantness and highlight their group membership with one another.

Shawn, the musical director, explained that humor was a valuable tonic for everyone. You need those moments of bad takes or funny moments that happen. I think you need those moments of levity to keep up, especially in a serious show. It can be extremely distracting if it becomes the focus, the practical joke playing and what not, but I think it needs to be there. There has to be time for that. If there isn’t . . . it creates a cast rapport that is stiff and uncreative. I think it needs to be there to keep spontaneity.

Shawn further focused on building relationships with performers in order to help them with their roles. He wanted them to engage in discussion and thought, so he said:

I talked with them over and over again about the how’s and the why’s and the what’s of what

they were doing. [Ted] did too with some of them. I think if you talk about the character, and

who the person is, and try to create a real person that works the best for them, [you are doing

them justice].

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These kinds of interactions were geared at helping the show overall as well as an person’s level of knowledge and experience. Shawn’s overall impressions were that a number of student actors/performers were in a state of flux in terms of their talent and techniques. He noted:

Particularly in this show. There were a lot of people that have just learned a whole lot, and

don’t know how to use everything yet. If you stop them, and remind them of their technique,

they are good. I think they are a work in progress. They can’t take what they know, and have

it be their habit yet. I think they are on the way, and it is a matter of practice.

Ted, the artistic director, was of the opinion that humor was very important between and among actors. It was a way to break the tension that comes with being required to move in and out of character.

He claimed that it helped to lighten the mood, and give performers a break from the seriousness of their stage work. Overall, using humor to build relationships, according to Ted, is “just part of being an actor and part of what you do for a living.”

Encouraging Group Cohesion and Membership Through Inside Humor

Mattie pointed out that prior relationships allowed actors/performers to use inside humor when joking and interacting. Richard noted that people he knew could joke with him in ways that others could not. For example, he remarked:

You can’t interact with me the way one of my really close friends does. . . . [Ralph] can say

something really, really rude to me . . . and it’s okay because [Ralph] is one of my best friends

and it’s fine. If somebody that I have met once comes up to me and says something really, really

rude, I’m going to take it as a really rude comment that somebody shouldn’t have said. I think a

lot of freshmen did that to a certain extent. They were annoying people or pissing people off.

Ted was noted by Katherine to use a type of humor outside smoking that was different from the humor he used elsewhere during the production process. She noted, “He may not have been as wry as he is other times, like if we were outside smoking or something. Usually he has that type behavior when you are outside smoking, and he’s smoking a little bit and relaxing.” She felt that Ted saved his wry humor

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for a special in-group, given there were a lot of freshmen in the cast, and Ted would have been intent on making good impressions on them. She also noted that my presence as well as the large size of the cast might have altered his behavior.

During the first musical rehearsal, several actors/performers and Shawn, the musical director, joked about a “pyramid” that someone had wanted in a class they were in. “Remember that?,” Shawn asked and continued, “Yes, I want a lift. I don’t know how, but I want it.” This was an example of an inside joke.

Another example of an inside joke was called to my attention at a review run-through when Ted indicated that somebody was going to win the Del Monte Award. Mitchell confessed to me that when he first heard this expression, he assumed that it referred to a “fruity” person. But instead he noted, it referred to a “pea head” who has done something dumb.

The directors, themselves, shared some inside humor as well throughout the production process.

For example, during the first blocking rehearsal, after Ted asked the actors to learn their lines so they could get off book, he asked, “Is there anything that confuses you?” to which Shawn replied, “What words come where?” During the last blocking rehearsal for Act I following Labor Day, Ted suddenly jumped into second position and immediately started slowly circling his hips to which Shawn replied,

“See what vacation does to you!” During rehearsal for the second half of Act II, Ted asked Shawn if he did a certain animal sound. Shawn asserted that he did not to which Ted responded by making the sound himself in a raspy, high pitched voice. Various times Ted asserted that he was tired of looking at Shawn’s derriere (as he played the piano). Shawn usually replied that that was his job.

The humor used among production staff and crew via their headset communication systems also was characteristic of inside humor. This humor was performed by production staff and crew exclusively.

Their humor was designed to make fun of the actors on stage, and served to elevate the esteem of the production staff and crew. Since the cast members get most of the attention anyway, Andrew felt that this

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form of headset humor involved in most all productions served to help the staff and crew feel good and have fun among themselves. He said:

Headset [communication] is not completely dedicated to the show. A lot of it is humor.

Sometimes it’s humor that is directed towards performers. I think everybody understands that it

is not so much a personal ‘We hate you’ type thing as it is, they do something dumb, and we

make fun of it. You know, and, yeah, it’s kind of demeaning to the person, but . . . I don’t think

it’s a really negative thing. Most of the time I think it’s within the line.

Leveling the Playing Field Between and Among Participants

Specifically, humor equalized people by minimizing their college class statuses and age differences. Upper and lower classmen were able to mix, mingle, and joke together in this theatrical context. Furthermore, as the play progressed, and as freshmen students became known by and got to know others, they were observed to engage in more humor.

But there were limits to how equal the new people were perceived by upper classmen. For example, when one freshman, Gertrude, in trying to fit in, went too far in becoming inebriated at a social gathering and in ad libbing on stage, older peers were offended, and ended up in one case scolding her, and in a rather clandestine way thereafter gossiping negatively about her and leaving her out of social settings. She also was noted to self-disclose too much about herself. By breaking traditional norms of interaction with upper classmen, this student learned the hard way the consequences of breaching boundaries of communication.

Nonetheless, mostly barriers were lowered for the good of the group, with people becoming freer to experience one another on equal ground because of their indulgences in humor. Their sense of freedom led to more joking, hugging, touching, teasing, and flirting not only on stage but off stage in social settings as well. Such freedom to interact with others helped to reduce confusion and conflicts, and led to greater social acceptance and approval.

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Socializing Outside of the Production

Outside of rehearsals, there was some socializing among group participants. For example, there were several large group parties organized during this production—a start of the term party sponsored by the Theatre Department, a party hosted by the musical director, a party hosted by an actor/performer, and an opening night party. In addition, various actors/performers frequently invited fellow performers and production staff out after rehearsals. For those who participated in some of these opportunities to socialize, humor became a natural means of developing relationships. It was apparent sometimes that certain cohorts had been socializing the night before. They appeared to be more openly comfortable and playful with one another.

Regarding the social lives of the actors and production staff, various events were planned or spontaneously created for social interaction. At the start of the run, I noticed that there was a flyer and sign-up sheet on the Departmental bulletin board for an annual picnic and softball game. Freshmen and newcomers were encouraged to attend. I noted to Mitchell, who was sitting close by, that I wondered why no one had signed up for the picnic yet, since it was only days away. It seemed unfortunate until he chuckled and assured me that they had already picked up the sign-up sheet. I replied, “Wouldn’t that be sad? It’s not good to have a party, and have no one come,” which Mitchell confirmed with “Really!”

Later, Peter informed me that approximately twenty people attended the picnic, although sadly not many freshmen. He also added that there was a lot of great food, and that a good time was had by all.

During a break on day two of blocking rehearsals for Act I, Peter stated that he thought it was necessary to have a beginning of the semester party. Mattie confirmed his sentiments with, “We definitely are having a Halloween party complete with costumes at my place.” She added that the opening of the semester party, however, could be as early as the upcoming Saturday or Sunday over

Labor Day Weekend. Either they could have a pre-party on Sunday, then go to some fireworks, or have the party on Saturday, and do fireworks on Sunday. Moreover, after the first review rehearsal, before everyone was dismissed, Cynthia yelled out, “Hey, we’re going out for a beer. Anyone who wants to,

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come!” Another evening, Mattie, again, noted to Peter that she wanted him to come to her house and then out to Applebee’s. Although I could not see Peter, I noted that Mattie replied, “Are you making fun of me?” and later, “I don’t want to go with you anyway..” During green room talks on opening night,

Shawn invited everyone to a potluck cookout at his house after Sunday’s performance, and the word was spread that there would be an opening night cast and crew party at a local restaurant and bar after the show that night as well.

During a break on the first day of Act II blocking, Lillian asked me to go out with Ted, Shawn,

Bettie, Cynthia, and some others after rehearsal. I accepted. The destination was a Buffalo Wings and

Things, and the agenda included food, talk, and relaxation. The female assistance stage manager,

Katherine, joined us as well as Cynthia’s boyfriend, the part-time assistant director. The “girls” wanted to talk about what goes on behind the scenes, but had little to say about that really; instead they talked about former shows they had worked on within the Department and the sexual themes inherent in many of these. Sometimes, they noted, this caused patrons to walk out of productions and/or to write letters. But they concluded that the Department was experimental, and stood behind freedom of expression and the objective of causing people to stretch in the latitudes of acceptance and tolerance.

Additional topics of conversation included their educational and theatrical experiences to date, campus news, theatre news, my role as a researcher, and the current production. Furthermore, the “girls” also wanted to talk about their boyfriends. Bettie and Nathan, although they broke up later in the production, were one dating item that we discussed, since, much to Lillian’s surprise, she refused to display affection toward Nathan in public and refused to allow Nathan to do so as well. Lillian, whose boyfriend also was in the Theatre Department, asserted that it would drive her nuts to never hold hands, touch, or flirt with her boyfriend, Steve, in public. Whereas Bettie expressed concern for individuality and a strong work ethic, Lillian emphasized the need to set boundaries by letting others know who she was dating. After a dart game began, I, along with a few others, excused ourselves and took leave.

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Regarding the opening-night cast party, the first wave of people at the restaurant around 11:30 p.m. Although Katherine, one of the assistant stage mangers, had understood that the restaurant was going to keep the kitchen open for a time, their chef only stayed half an hour from 11:00 until 11:30 p.m.

Unfortunately, this was not late enough to feed the hungry cast and crew. However, the establishment provided potato chips and cocktails or soft drinks. Interestingly, although production staff, crew, and other Departmental students were present, cast members were noted, in particular, to be very dressed up—a practice I later learned was status quo for this peer group’s nighttime social scene. It affords the young crowd an opportunity to experience something beyond their grungy daytime clothes, a female member of the technical crew informed me. For example, Mattie wore black leather pants, a red tank top, and a sheer black blouse with a fur collar. Hilda wore black dress slacks and an off-white mohair sweater. Bettie, Cynthia, and Lillian wore skirts or dresses, nice jackets or sweaters, hose and high heels, and sophisticated street makeup. Males wore dress slacks, shirts, and shoes. Luke wore a fashionable, rust-colored sweater suit. The young people intermingled and intermixed, congratulated and thanked one another, relaxed, and enjoyed themselves. Mainly they drank beer. They still were going strong, mainly talking and laughing, when I left at 12:30 a.m.

Flo noted that Stella and she were similar. They did not like to drink, so they avoided going to

Departmental events that involved alcohol. The alcohol per se was not the problem as much as the fact that people got drunk. Flo revealed:

I’m not cool because I don’t go out to the drinking parties and stuff. I don’t even care. They

won’t talk to me that much because I don’t associate with them that much at parties, which I think

is ignorant. . . . I don’t want to see people get drunk. I just don’t’ like the environment. I went to

them for a while, and I just got burned out.

In referring to Stella, Flo remarked, “When I find somebody that is along the same lines as me as just a person, I love that, and it’s great that I’m not the only freak in the Department.” Hilda noted that she did not socialize with cast or crew during this production. She commented, “I never really went out

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with anybody from this cast. I’m friends with everybody. We had a great time in rehearsals, but it’s like

I see them all day, and I just want to go see my boyfriend. I just want to get away.” She noted that she did not socialize with theatre students outside of rehearsals. She added, “I think it’s usually best for me to get away from everyone, even if it was a great rehearsal. It’s best just to say, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’”

Peter admitted that there are some social cliques in the Theatre Department, but this pattern was not widespread or problematic usually. He said:

When you’re in class, and it’s just class, it’s fantastic. And everybody . . . well, there’s not many

little social cliques that are cliques. There’s maybe three or four [overall]. But for the most part,

nobody is really segregated very much, so. Everybody gets along. Everybody likes each other.

Furthermore, according to Peter, whereas John would not go out with the cast, Gertrude would.

He said she had overstepped her bounds at a birthday party for Ralph a couple of weeks into rehearsals.

He said, “I got there maybe forty-five minutes to an hour after rehearsal, and [Gertrude] was drunk to the point where she couldn’t move, and later on she was throwing up on the steps of [Ralph’s] apartment, and it was bad. Like it was bad to the point where I thought we were going to have to go to the hospital.”

Apparently, she also was wearing “a hootchie shirt and a short skirt” as well, which Peter found to be placing her in a negative light in front of people she did not know. He commented, “She isn’t exactly a

Mother Superior. None of us are. But she—the problem is that she’s a freshman and everyone—nobody wants her to be quite that wild yet.”

Relationships with Authority Figures

The artistic director in particular is a significant person to like you in return. According to actors/performers, they felt more special and relaxed when they knew that the director liked them. They talked about his signs of liking that made them feel accepted. They also needed to like the directors.

Approval, on the other hand, is felt to come from others’ feedback about your work. When actors received little feedback from the directors, for example, the directors’ approval of them was questioned.

Many students wanted their directors to give them more feedback with regard to both the production’s

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vision and their personal performances. Lack of feedback led to more uncertainty, frustration, and less humor. Richmond and McCroskey (1992) refer to this as audience-based anxiety, fear associated with a person or group of people.

Regulation of Moods and Emotions

Participants agreed that humor served to mark the play territory with a light, amusing, and enjoyable mood. A positive climate or context within which to work helped to regulate moods, and thereby to both foster positive emotions and to manage negative emotions. Positive moods and emotions were prevalent early on, especially as participants got to know one another and form group dynamics.

Thanks to the experience of positive emotions initially, the stage was set for future interactions of a generally positive nature. As time went on, and pressures mounted, humor helped to regulate negative emotions, such as embarrassment from criticisms, tensions from competition, anger due to conflicts, frustrations with production elements, and individual differences in needs for approval, acceptance, and liking, in perceptions of mistakes and personal shortcomings, in feelings of uncertainty, and in unmasking and masking behaviors.

In addition, humor served a couple of other functions. For one, by helping to deflect and defeat additional negative moods and emotions—whether boredom, depression, anger, embarrassment, or frustration—humor helped to make the actors/performers feel grounded and centered. Those who initiated humor were seen as trait-like humorists, who helped to provide everyone with much needed attention, affection, and approval as well as frivolity and flirtatious rapport. For another, it helped them further transform themselves from being a human being into being a character on stage and vise versa.

That is, it helped them leave their emotional baggage from the day at the door and to immerse themselves into the fictitious world of the play instead. In sum, humor played a key role in helping to regulate the moods and emotions of the cast and production staff in order that they could develop a quality production that would display the best of their talents and of which they could be proud. Below is further discussion

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of (a) positive moods and emotions, (b) negative moods and emotions, and (c) transformations into characters.

Positive Moods and Emotions

Lightening the mood was a significant way in which humor functioned to help actors/performers relieve stress, tensions, and anxieties. Bettie observed this when she said, “You want to make everyone laugh, and especially in a serious play like this. You want to be able to lighten the mood.” Later she added, “Things like that break the ice, and they help become more comfortable in being vulnerable, which is basically what you have to be on stage if you want to come across as anything real.” Gertrude shared this sentiment. She asserted, “Somebody just says something funny. It just lightens the whole room up.”

Maria further revealed how humor managed to create a more positive mood. She said, “[When] getting your role and your performance together, you know, cutting up and socializing with the other people or with [Shawn] and [Ted] . . ., made the atmosphere better. . . . It was more positive.” Constance additionally noted that “there needs to be some humor in there sometimes to lighten the mood with the stress that goes along with putting together a show.” Ted, the artistic director, further noted that humor is very important in that it allows for a “mood change from the character to the human being that you are” once you exit a stage; humor comes in the form of a “sort of bantering and play and facetiousness,” he added.

Furthermore, Mattie noted that building humorous relationships with others helped to regulate moods and emotions. She revealed:

In the rehearsal process, it’s so important to like stay buddy-buddy with people because it’s really

easy to get really angry with people you work with because they are not doing something you

want them to do, or they are doing something that you don’t want them to do. You have to keep

the atmosphere light, and you have to joke around. You have to be fun. It’s really important I

think to keep everybody focused. That definitely breaks tension. That’s probably the number

one important thing.

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Various additional moments during rehearsals revealed a positive experience for the actors and/or others. For example, one evening Lillian hurriedly trotted alongside Ted as she made way to her position on stage, prancing like a pony all the way. She not only smiled, she sparkled from the inside out. Her genuine love for what she was doing was admirable and touching. Different actors were seen waving enthusiastically to the audience at the end of a production, a gesture started by Richard. During a group photo shoot after the eighth performance, Ted responded to the actors, who were engaging in an abundance of flirtatious and sexual behavior, with an onslaught of one-liners and inside jokes; it was reminiscent of the humorous vigor present in him in the early days of the production process.

It became evident that humor served not just one function, it served multiple and overlapping functions in this production. For example, Richard added that using humor helped him to break through his tensions, to lighten his mood, and to work more truthfully on his role. He claimed that his humorous actions were “just me breaking the tension inside myself, and trying to break up the tension a little bit for everybody else.” These attempts to interact humorously with others took place during times of high and low stress, but particularly when the stress ran high, according to Richard. He noted that “sometimes you try to crack a joke, and you try to be funny, and you try to lighten things up,” but as Richard learned, at other times humor did not work to generate laughs since some found it unfunny or even annoying.

As a final example, the last blocking rehearsal within Act I involved choreography, specifically choreography of the ending dance number in Act I. Choreography had a way of lightening the mood and releasing tensions for everyone. This session was alive with humorous repartee and movement. In starting to the stage to engage in dance work, Bettie ran from the house to the stage, saying “I’m excited!”

Lillian circled her hips, and said to Luke, “Come on. Let’s be cute.” Later, Luke imitated what he said was Ralph from the television show The Simpson’s. He was quizzing Lillian to see if she could guess who he was imitating from his small, squeaky voice. He had to tell her. Then she imitated his impersonation to which Luke teased, “Are you mocking me? Huh?” Lillian replied, “No. Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

After a time, the assistant director observed that “The American Ballet Theatre doesn’t have this trouble”

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in response to the overabundance of energy and movement going on on stage. Ted lifted his shirt and flashed his stomach repeatedly to which Shawn one time blew kisses and another time retorted, “I’ll take off my pants.” In response to the latter, Ted made a snarling face, and threw a glance in my direction.

This kind of high energy, frivolous, and flirtatious humor continued throughout the evening.

According to some, flirtatious or sexual humor represented a type of humor that helped actors release vital energy and explore creative options, and served as a positive type of mood or emotional adjustment mechanism. That is, sexual or flirtatious humor allowed young actors to run off excess energy in order to prepare to rehearse or perform. It had aerobic advantages. In addition, since it tapped libidinal impulses, it was pleasurable or enjoyable for the actors.

Further, it helped the young actors press the limits of their expressiveness by engaging in startling, even shocking behaviors, such as imitating copulating in front of others. This helped them develop their roles on stage by breaking down inhibitions. Ralph felt that the sexual appeal of his character was more important than his humor. He described his character as “sexual” and “carnal,” further talking about crossing the line with his sexual humor to see how far he could go. Hilda claimed that sexual humor helped her play her role as well. She would otherwise be bored, she claimed. Gertrude noted that Hilda was hilarious and nonstop in her sexual humor, running around pretending to be a male and using songs and lines from the show to create sexual innuendos. Yet another actor, Richard, claimed that he was sexual by nature, and therefore needed to engage in sexual humor in order to release pent up emotional impulses. These impulses need expelled in order to play his character, he noted.

First, regarding what would offset stress, tension, and anxiety, actors/performers, stage managers, and directors mentioned the following confidence or esteem boosters. For example, creating a positive atmosphere by lightening the mood through humor were key functions in building confidence. Flo reported that using positive self-talk coupled with a reliance on others to use humor in their feedback to her was a means of building her confidence Lillian remarked that humor helped to “keep things light and

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it releases a lot of the tensions.” She continued, “It helps keep everything in perspective, and it brings us back around.”

Likewise, Hilda noted that humor helped her relax and feel comfortable around others both on and off stage due to a light, positive atmosphere; thus, she notoriously joked most of the time, which helped her as well as others around her. Gertrude is one whose moods and emotions were positively affected by Hilda’s humorous antics.

Negative Moods and Emotions

Several actors noted that making jokes or being funny during note giving sessions helped her to save face, to reduce embarrassment and shame, by softening the criticisms. In referring to note giving sessions led by the artistic director, Flo said, “It makes it funny, and I’m like okay, it’s a joke, and I’m not so embarrassed. I can go on, and I’ll do it right this time.” Hilda found humor to help actors/performers save face as well in saying: “Well I know I had to cut up backstage just because I don’t like dancing or singing. Anytime before a song, it’s just like, well, this isn’t going to be good, so I have to make people laugh back here.”

Lillian further noted that humor helped people to make criticisms of others while saving face.

She stated, “I think that humor always helps cause you can say serious things without hurting someone’s feelings.” In fact, she noted that even if someone pointed out how terrible something was, “Most people aren’t smart enough to realize that that was just an insult.” She continued, “You know, so, I think that humor a lot of times, it allows you to get out something that is very serious, that you’re telling someone that they were wrong, or they need to try something that is not their way, and it alleviates the stress.”

A few actors noted that humor helped them avoid certain other negative emotions, such as depression, boredom, and unpleasantness. For example, Lillian noted, “I would have to go offstage, and make light of something to not be so freaking depressed all the time. You know?” This was due to the depressive mood of her scene work. In fact, humor was said by one participant to increase with boredom.

But boredom was not the only emotion altered by humor. Katherine noted that she felt Hilda used so

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much humor “probably, more than likely [due to] the fact that she was so bored. She had that one scene, and then she walked on and off a couple of times. That was it. [Hilda] is always just a character backstage.” Constance also noted that if humor were absent, people would be bored and serious.

Further, people revealed their true emotions in different ways. Ted noted that actors vented their frustrations to him and others as a way of dealing with unpleasantness. They complained about conflicts, in particular. He said, “It is a way to vent frustrations a lot of times. They gripe about it because it is a way to vent.” Humor, in addition, helped everyone deal with even small disappointments and failures. In fact, Flo said, “Humor keeps me sane.” Cynthia shared this same sentiment. Some people were moody.

For Ted, this was interpreted by some as hard to read and intimidating. However, Andrew pointed out,

“You know what [Ted] is thinking . . . if you’re on his good side today or not. . . . It’s just however his day is going. I think he tends to be pretty moody. You always know when [Ted] is not happy.” Those who knew Ted knew him to be sometimes moody, but also funny.

Moreover, stage mangers, who called the cues and managed the technicians working lights, sound, set changes, and special effects, played a game nightly on their headsets that involved making fun of actors and others working on the show. According to Andrew, this kind of humor was designed to help the crew have fun and deal with unpleasantness. When the technical staff and crew entered the production process, a lot of negative feelings existed toward them due to the lack of time and opportunity to build social relationships with the cast and production staff. Nothing relational had had time to accumulate, so under the pressure of time and an unfortunate set of clashes between and among certain cast and crew members, even the use of humor had little positive effect for the relationships among them.

However, the technical staff and crew did engage in humor usage via headset communication systems and the development of their own in-group interactions.

According to Stella, some actors got on others’ nerves because others wanted to be serious, but some continued to engage in humor. For example, she noted that attitudes in the beginning of rehearsals were very good and continued to be good throughout the middle of rehearsals. However, she noted,

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“during hell week, during tech week, when a lot of things went flying, that’s when a lot of people had tensions between each other. But naturally everybody is on like four hours of sleep, and we run the show.

It’s a crazy time.” This is when attitudes and patience were low, she claimed, and as a result, various people got on others’ nerves. She cited Richard, Lillian, and Gertrude as getting on various people’s nerves. Blake also noted that humor could be bothersome for people that were serious. He noted, “If you are serious, then it’s annoying.” In other words, humor rested at low tide during times of seriousness and growing impatience due to increased levels of stress, tension, and anxiety.

Cynthia made an observation that indicated that some actors/performers got on her nerves as well because they interfered with certain things she took seriously. In particular, she was concerned that ad libbing took focus away from where it should be in any given play, and consequently, it took away from any show as a whole. She also felt that simply adding something to a script like a “cheap joke” in order to reap audience laughter was an unsophisticated way to approach theater, plus it did not make a good actor/performer. According to Cynthia, this kind of unsophisticated, improvised humor displayed itself during a Shakespearean play of which she and her cohorts were a part. She explained:

We did Shakespeare, and it happened in that play. . . . They are busy watching him play with his

fake boobs. They are like, [Cynthia], that’s funny. The audience is with them then, and they are

laughing. . . . I’m like, that’s not the point. That’s not what is intended in this play. I get too

worked up about it. I have to shut my mouth, and make it a point not to say anything. I just look

the other way. I hope that when I get out into another theatre, that people will see it like I do. I

think everywhere I go I’m going to have to deal with this. It’s just always going to be people that

are cast that are going to be all about themselves, and not the play.

Individuals who upset the apple cart with their emotional mood swings or diva moments created tension and stress also. For example, the musical director, Shawn, noted that people with egos or divas started thinking that they were better than others, and this reportedly resulted in tensions backstage. He revealed, “People start thinking, ‘I’m the lead, and you can do that for me. I need more space in my

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dressing room. . . .’ It spills off into future shows too.” He worried that actors/performers failed to understand in a mature sense that there were no stars. Ted, the artistic director, added that he had actors/performers “toss a little attitude,” but he noted, “I think human beings do that.” He, however, felt there was only a little bit of diva behavior in his Department, contrary to the opinions of most other participants. Ted defined a diva as follows: “Someone who thinks that they are bigger, better, and stronger than the director and the production staff. Unlike most participants’ behavior, diva behavior reportedly did not bother Stella greatly. She noted: “It just doesn’t affect me like it affects other people.

If people are going to be snotty and uppity about things, then let them be. It doesn’t bother me. If that’s the way they feel about themselves, go for it. Don’t rub it in my face because if they do, well you know.”

If some mistake or mishap occurred on stage, Cynthia or Mitchell, for example, would return to the dressing rooms, and say things like, “’I can’t go on,’ you know, the whole drama thing,” Gertrude reported. Thus, tensions on stage were vented off stage to stage managers or to one another in the dressing rooms.

Rue revealed how negative emotions were displayed during the production as a result of a fire drill. However, she advocated remaining calm, and finding humor in the situation. First, she noted that some folks were very angry about a fire drill that occurred prior to the end of Act I during the last performance. She stated: “There were some people who were very angry, a couple in particular, who were very angry about it. Then there were others of us who were laughing about it. . . . You can’t change it, so just have a good time. Enjoy it. Laugh about it.” Andrew felt this way too, adding that humor helped everyone get through the tough stuff of productions.

Second, although Rue could laugh about the fire drill, she recalled that two nights before opening, she began to cry after rehearsal because she was worried about how well she was doing. She said, “I just cried all the way out because I just thought I was doing so horrible, and I didn’t know what to do to make it better. I was worried about what the professors were going to think. I want people to have a high

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opinion of me. I want them to respect my work.” Nathan, her boyfriend and fellow cast member, helped calm her down and reassure her.

Nathan also worried about himself, which resulted in his ruminating about whether he was going to be funny in the show nightly. He was afraid of embarrassing himself, as he had observed others doing.

He noted that “there are times when you are in the audience, and you know that, ‘Oh, my God,’ that was a joke, and nobody laughed. You were like, ‘They were awful, and they didn’t do the joke right.’”

Regarding himself, he noted: “I was tense about [being funny] every night. You have to be very, very careful not to make it sound [contrived], and I don’t know if I ever achieved making it not sound contrived. I don’t know if you were paying attention, but I tried that eight hundred different ways.”

Transformations into Characters

Interestingly, humor also marked the transformation of an actor from being human into being a character. When one enters a rehearsal space, it is a well-known piece of theatre advice that whatever emotions and moods from the day linger should be left at the door or dispelled by the actor. The play itself as well as one’s character within the play should dictate the primary emotions and moods the actor takes on. Once transformed into his or her role, emotions and moods changed from their own personhood into their designated character. Ted stated, “There should be a mood change from the character to the human being that you are.”

This transformation also occurred for directors and production staff, as they observed actors transforming their mood. In fact, the sum of all the parts of the production created something unique, a whole entity onto itself with a dominant mood and emotion that permeated everything, and affected everyone. The prevailing mood was positive, but in reality moods swung from positive to negative.

However, the cast, directors, and stage managers were never a highly negative group.

Release of Creativity and Spontaneity

When actors/performers talked about creativity and spontaneity, they spoke about feeling air borne or immersed in a flowing river of creativity. Creativity as a free flowing, floating, weightless

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feeling was observed on several occasions. For one, when the artistic director was choreographing the production, all seemed to transform themselves into a lightness of being that one would call air borne through creativity and spontaneity. Heads and hearts were united in physical movements required of the dance. People seemed lost in their movements. As such, the choreographer and others often moved spontaneously and at random outside of the choreography, turning, leaping, and improvising steps of their own. Additionally, certain moments of singing and acting during which actors bore their inner most thoughts and feelings also grew to take on lives of their own. These were emotionally heightened moments. At these times, actors/performers appeared to be in the zone.

Boosts to Creativity

The freedom to create.

Confidence was defined by some as a sense of freedom that came from improvisation, ad libbing, and spontaneity. Nathan himself engaged in funny stage business and ad libbing as a way of helping to free himself of his tensions. Richard too agreed that being what he called “an audience responsive actor” enabled him to experience freedom from the constraints of anxiety. This involved a type of humor geared at generating spontaneity through ad libbing and, as a result, hopefully audience applause and laughter.

Finally, a couple of participants commented that physical, flirtatious, and sexual humor helped actors’ confidence. This served to help actors/performers and staff members loosen up, unwind, and prepare to be spontaneous and creative. For one, Katherine believed that the flirtatious, physical, and sexual humor actors/performers engaged in aided them in boosting their confidence. She stated, “I think it could boost their confidence. It could be like getting rid of some of that extra adrenaline that they are not so nervous, shaky, or whatever.” For another, Ralph felt that the directors’ feedback greatly lifted his confidence, and also his ability to act sexual and physical. He stated, “Sometimes I think I go where most people won’t go. Just when you think somebody is at the line, sometimes I cross the line. . . . I am a sexual person. . . .

I am concerned with the way I look, but more if I am sexually appealing.” So being and acting sexual helped Ralph boost his self-esteem and self-confidence.

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In addition, Ted noted that actors/performers felt confident enough to engage in sexual humor and touching inside and outside of rehearsals. Ted added, “It is not politically incorrect [in the theatre]. It is not wrong. It is not sexual. It is just the comfort zone that you have established with other actors, and that comfort zone is not established in other kinds of departments [apart from theatre departments].”

With regard to creativity, John found it apparent that humor helped to open everyone up for creative exploration. Having performed his same role previously in this production with a local community theatre, John recalled that his director for that show had prescribed everything. But the direction for this show was different. He stated, “What I liked about [Ted] is that he gave everyone the opportunity to make their own thing up. To do something funny, to make it more funny, different stuff like that. I thought that was really cool. It made the show more creative and funny.” John, indeed, thought this show was funnier than the previous show and better overall, thus he liked this one better.

As Rue pointed out, creativity is something that occurs in relationship with others also often times. You cannot create roles in a vacuum. Role work is interdependent with others. Humor helped to establish good working relationships so that actors/performers could create their characters in concert with others. She said: “I think that it’s good to be able to get along with [others] because when you are trying to work out bits [of stage business], if you come up with one, and someone else doesn’t want to do it just to spite you, then that kind of ruins the purpose of, you know, what I mean?”

Improvisation.

Nathan indicated that he felt that ad libbing or improvisation added a dimension of spontaneity and creativity to performances as well. He contended that a bit of stage business he had been working on was not gelling after repeated tries. It was not funny. So he finally decided to go for it and just improvise. What he ended up doing was not in the script and not blocked, he just went for it, and produced something funny in a creative and spontaneous manner. When asked if the artistic director reproached him about this, he said, “No. I don’t think he’s going to yell at me when it’s that funny. I think there are ad libs that can be very funny. Some of the funniest lines in the show, or moments, [were]

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not in the script.” Later Nathan added, “When I began to let go is when I began to find the humor.

Usually the funniest stuff you do is close to your personality. You can be all dramatic . . ., but the more you are yourself is usually when you get the funnier laughs.” The closer to yourself you are, that is, the more you are likely to discover your creative impulses and act spontaneously.

Hilda noted that some people went too far with ad libbing to reap greater laughter. She said,

“Nobody would laugh, so they’d ad lib because they wanted that laugh.” Even after Ted preached against ad libbing during Green Room talks, Hilda noted that it continued.

Spontaneity.

Hilda also noted that she liked spontaneity. She was able to generate such spontaneity through cutting up and joking back stage. She stated, “Well, I know I had to cut up back stage just because I don’t like dancing or singing. Anytime before a song, it’s just like, well, this isn’t going to be good, so I have to make people laugh back here.” She said a couple of times this almost threw her off, but it made her performance “a little more spontaneous”; she added, “You look at it more in a positive way,” and “As long as I’m in character when I’m joking around, I can still go out and do whatever I need to do to get stuff.”

Shawn, the musical director, noted that humor was essential in a serious show to keep things light. He did note that if overused, humor can become distracting when he said, “It can be extremely distracting if it becomes the focus, the practical joke playing and what not, but I think it needs to be there.

There has to be time for that.” The significant point Shawn made was that humor leads to spontaneity and creativity. He asserted, “[The absence of humor] creates a cast rapport that is stiff and uncreative. I think it needs to be there to keep spontaneity.” He also added that spontaneity could lead to unpredictable moments that can lead to the funniest and/or most creative aspects of a show. He added, “You need those moments of bad takes or funny moments that happen. I thought [one particular such moment] was hysterical. It was totally accidental. I think you need those moments of levity.”

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Limitations on Creativity

Lack of change.

Hilda was of the opinion that the show could have been explored more fully for its creative potential. She initially claimed, “What kind of bothered me doing the same thing every night from the very beginning, but [Ted] didn’t want it to change, and every once in a while when I would change it, he would say ‘No.’” She said she did not realize his intentions for the show until he came to speak to a class of hers one day. Then she understood more concretely what his vision for this production was. She asserted, “Nobody knew. Nobody.” Nobody knew clearly what Ted’s vision was, that is. There was a good deal of confusion in this regard. She concluded, “It could have been explored for the comedy in it more than it was. It could have gone to the hilt with that if you wanted it to.”

Lack of feedback.

Rue used her own techniques when developing her role, more than other actors, but she would have liked more feedback from Ted regarding her comic timing and characterization. She said, “That is something that I personally am not very strong at is comedic timing, and I need some feedback. I wish he would have given me some more feedback by telling me ‘Hit this. Hit that.’” Since Ted failed to give

Rue as much feedback as she would have liked to help create her role, she asked another teacher in the

Department to come into rehearsal and coach her on her comic timing. “I wish I would have solidified her earlier. That’s the thing though. I don’t know. . . . I tried so many different ways to figure it out.”

Setting the show.

As opening night approached, the artistic director began to set the show, thus it became less creative and spontaneous. However, during a few rehearsals, Ted decided to stop and start scene work in order to polish performances. At these times, the actors/performers along with the director were able to engage in experimentation, which is at the heart of creativity. One such rehearsal occurred at the end of review rehearsals for Act II.

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Interestingly, nonetheless, Ted registered more open criticisms at this rehearsal. For example, in order to have the males project more during a chorus number, he said, “Gentleman, I need all your power!” Later, he called out, “I’m hearing nice, solid sounds, but the diction is not there.” Then he remarked, “You’re not ready to go. You can’t wonder into character. You can’t fix your hair, or I’ll watch you fixing your hair. Make sense?” He also asked actors to pick a partner, and every time they saw one another, to rehearsal their lyrics three times. He quipped, “This is as mean as I get.”

As this continued, actors started to focus on their work more, to pay attention to their directions, and to improve in their performances, but this failed to hold for long. After a short while, they appeared anxious to leave rehearsal. It was a Friday night, and they wanted to go out. It was apparent that stagger- through and then technical and dress rehearsals were fast approaching, and all experimentation took place in a more serious, yet playful atmosphere.

Solace Through Rituals and Superstitions

Participants within this production used both playful and superstitious rituals for a variety of reasons. Ritual humor was noted to be a way of creating a parody of the production, one participant noted. It also was a way of masking one’s intentions, if not oneself, so that the humor, parody or otherwise, was safe and non-threatening. For the most part, ritual humor was playful, but it also was mischievous, superstitious, and flirtatious. It flirted with danger, violated rules, and released repressed emotions. Moreover, it was evident from field observations and participant interviews within this study that rituals indeed served the function of uniting people, building group solidarity or cohesion, and inviting collaboration and camaraderie among participants.

Superstitious Rituals

Pre-show and Acts I and II dances.

Bettie was concerned about cast members and crew getting along with one another. She noted that actors sometimes failed to realize that the crew helped them get the show up to performance level.

“A lot of actors have a tendency to think it’s all about me,” she said. Having served as crew for a number

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of shows, Bettie was more sensitive to the newcomers to the production during technical week. As such, she joined them in one of their ritual actions. That is, she joined the crew for “our little pre-show dance behind [a certain set piece] before we went on every night.” This pre-show dance became a “tradition,” the students claimed. However, not only could they have been seen, but they could have tripped and fallen or bumped the set, causing unnecessary and distracting movement. They also could have been in trouble with the directors. Nonetheless, the thought processes used indicated that it was necessary to carry out such rituals in order to ensure a smooth-running production nightly.

On the other hand, Bettie noted that the costume designer, a student, and her student assistant were not supposed to be back stage doing songs and dances at the ends of Acts I and II nightly, but they were. She noted, “That was a different story because a lot of people had problems with that because they weren’t supposed to be back there. A lot of people had a lot of problems with [them] being back there.”

Nonetheless, the costume designer and her assistant imitated the song and dance going on stage nightly. They did what they could figure out about the choreography and lyrics, but to keep the beat going, when in doubt, they made up their own lyrics and dance steps. The ritual dance was performed in the stage right wing just on the other side of the curtain legs where actors/performers entered and exited the stage. They danced over the stage manger, Katherine’s, headset cord and other lighting cables duck taped to the floor. They furthermore blocked the view of anyone, like myself, trying to observe. All in all, they performed their routine in a dimly lit area, over lighting cables, within very close quarters next to the downstage curtain legs, near rigging. It was a high traffic area, thus a dangerous act, performed in an area fraught with obstacles. Something connected to onstage scenery or lighting could have been jarred, one of the staff members could have been injured, and these folks as well as stage managers could have been in trouble with the directors if they had been found out. This was a secretive dance, therefore. It was believed that if the wing performers failed to meet their obligations to perform their unpolished, but memorized versions of the performances simultaneously occurring on stage nightly, the onstage performance would have suffered.

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Actors’/performers’ preparation.

Andrew and a few others informed me when I observed the production from back stage one night that Rue always prepared herself in the same way. They said that she would pace behind the first curtain leg quickly, concentrating on her characterization and her lines. Then she would move to the first area, and wait briefly before going on stage. She was revving herself up for her performance. This was a ritual way of preparing for the show.

Other ritual behaviors preceded and followed a scene in which Lillian, Mattie, and Richard had to be tender on stage. This group’s off stage behavior was the antithesis of tender, however. It was dark and caustic. For example, the three would cut up joking and laughing nightly prior to going on stage. Then when they came off stage with their baby doll wrapped in a blanket, someone would hold the doll upside down, while others took pot shots at it. After they gave it several wallops, they might shake the doll or even pitch a spanking to the doll. They all laughed at the actions, then walked back out on stage to be tender. This again became a ritual repeated over the course of various performances.

Dressing room humor.

Again, Cynthia did not dress in the “girl’s dressing room,” rather she worked out her own plan to dress in the male dressing room. This created its own set of rules and roles. In the female dressing room, there were two rooms—one that consisted of a small room inside the main door to and from the hallway and another larger inner room adjoining this small outer one. Both had countertops and chairs, mirrors

(full-length and waist high), lighting conducive to makeup application, costume racks, and full facility restrooms—everything appropriate and necessary for a dressing room. As the females in the show, of which there were eleven, prepared their makeup, hair, and costumes nightly, their goal reportedly was to keep the humor flowing. This practice of entertaining one another prior to each show was viewed as ritual behavior, necessary for primarily diffusing tensions.

Specifically, the type of humor used was by all accounts predominantly, if not exclusively, sexual in nature. For example, Gertrude revealed that dressing room behavior was noteworthy. Hilda, in

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particular, used this time to help her get into the mood she needed to perform in the of the production.

She stated:

As we got more towards the run of the show, I would have to say, especially the week of the

show, and you know, for the next week, it seemed like a lot of humor though was down. It

seemed like it was down. The girl’s dressing room was funny though. [Hilda] ran around

talking non-stop about sex, so it was always funny in there. . . . She kept the humor alive. I mean

when a lot of other people lost it, there were some people that seemed like they just always had it.

She was one of them. There was a lot of drama back there though.

The rawness of their sexual humor was indicative of the need for the actresses to tap into their essential selves in order to transform themselves into their characters and, in so doing, to diffuse problematic tensions. Tensions might brew over competition, anxieties, feelings of self-doubt, and high needs for approval, for example. Although the researcher was only in the dressing room one time, actresses amply reported activities that occurred here.

It is interesting to note that one actress, Cynthia, found this practice distracting, and preferred to be with male actors when dressing for the show. Thus, upon agreement from the gay males, she took up residence in the back of their dressing room. Her reasoning was based on how distracting the constant humor tossed back and forth among the females in their dressing room became to her. The noise was bothersome as well as the females’ giddiness. The noise was at a level hard to hear cues, she claimed, and therefore added to this actress’s tensions.

She further claimed that the attention she received from the males was more uplifting and confidence building, helping to relax her. Their interactions possessed dalliance, but not a rowdy and raucous type of humor. They often joked about her seeing “their packages,” she claimed. By then teasing and/or flirting with them, she was able to break down social barriers and to establish cohesive coed relationships conducive to working well together on stage.

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Conversely, one of the homosexual male actors, Ralph, traded places with the female, dressing in the female dressing room many evenings. Little comment or fuss was made about this swap. Ralph was comfortable with the females, and enjoyed himself. As mentioned, however, that this was not the first time this arrangement had been carried out. This particular male and female had traded places on former productions as well.

One-liner rituals.

Cynthia noted that if the group was unable to use humor, she thought they would “go insane.”

Then she added, “I think that if I didn’t tell [Richard] to ‘Kiss my butt’ every time before I want on stage, it just wouldn’t be right.” This was a ritual behavior that Cynthia repeated in order to prepare herself for success on stage. It was an act of superstition.

Another one-liner used by convention in the theatre is “break a leg.” This expression is synonymous with “good luck.” But whether the long or short version is used, this is a superstitious good- luck wish for someone about to enter into a performance.

Playful Ritual

Headset humor.

As noted already in various places, headset communication was supposed to be for calling light, sound, set change, and other special effects cues during the run of a show. However, convention has it that those with headset communication systems—production staff and crew—typically engage in humor about actors on stage. Andrew talked about this process in some detail. The goal here was to have fun using an inside form of humor. It became a ritual because people used it nearly nightly, even though a cue call could be missed, or someone could have trouble getting through to a stage manager in the case of an emergency.

According to Andrew, headset humor helps staff and crew create their own inner world within the production. He said, “It’s just funny. Every once in a while [someone] did something a little bit out of line, but . . . basically they kept it all under control, and it was all just fun and games.” Andrew added

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that making fun of actors/performers has “nothing to do with anything, and it’s usually funny, you know.

So yeah, definitely, humor is very much a part of a technician’s role.” If it fails to happen, the show may suffer because the staff and crew need this outlet to perform their functions in peak fashion.

New lyrics.

It was suggested that a common ritual engaged in by production staff and crew when using their headset communication systems was making up new lyrics to selected songs from the show. This occurs exclusively in musical theatre productions. Although this may be a generalized phenomenon, in this show such rituals were enacted with a fair degree of frequency, according to observations. Andrew stated:

One of the things you do on headset is you take the songs that are in a musical, and you write new

lyrics to them. You know? That’s just one of the things that happens. It happens with every

musical. You know? That’s something you do for fun, and the lyrics make fun of the show and

the experience. I mean, it’s just part of your life. . . . You’re going through, [and saying this is]

the good stuff and the fun stuff, and you make fun of the stuff that wasn’t so fun, you know? It’s

just a way of . . . marking where you’ve been, and what you’ve done, and just kind of enjoying it.

The new lyrics designed by staff and crew then parodied the show. These parodies served to make the experience fun. They served a playful function that added to these participants’ enjoyment in working on the show. It also helped participants to release any pent up frustrations, hostilities, or other impulses.

Such impulses may have stemmed from their life inside or outside of the show. In either case, the function of this ritual was to help the participants cope and have fun with the various details of the show.

Graffiti.

Wall graffiti was operative, and served a ritual function as well. Students were free to write with permanent markers on the wall on the hallway side of the back wall of the stage for various shows and on the back of set pieces. One could peruse messages from former shows as well as from the current one.

Some wall humor was clever and witty. Some was sarcastic and cruel. Most referred to inside jokes, but

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other messages were meant for public reception. This graffiti continued to appear on a chalkboard and time sheets temporarily erected for this production in the back stage hallway area.

The graffiti might celebrate good feelings about the show and/or people involved with the show.

Sometimes it flattered someone in the production or something about the production. It might simply demonstrate the witty and clever abilities of the author. Or it might be cutting, sarcastic, and cruel humor, making fun of people, the process, or the production itself. Typically the identity of the humorist was masked. Some messages were written on permanent spaces with permanent marker. Some were written on a chalkboard, the back of a set piece, or a poster, and therefore would leave no indelibly injurious record, threatening someone’s current or historical identity. The identity of the humorist, however, generally was masked. The author, like someone donning a mask, could be someone other than their public self and reveal untold truths about their thoughts, feelings, and experiences.

Again, examples from section one of this Chapter follow. Graffiti was written on the opposite side of the wall behind the upstage crossover space and on the backs of various set pieces. One piece of graffiti said, “What the hell? Didn’t you hear that cue I didn’t give? Hello! Is anyone listening,” signed

“[Peter, the stage manager].” Another said, “[Joe Smith’s] 5 Lessons of Life: 1. Laugh every day; 2.

Drink a glass of milk every day; 3. Don’t do #’s 1. and 2. at the same time or milk will fly out your nose;

4. If #3. happens, clean up your mess; 5. Everyday for 3 seconds—just think of butterflies.” Yet other examples read, “[Joe’s] spot,” followed by a large, black dot, “Don’t you dare read this!” “Shit! I dropped something on stage,” and “Sleep? What’s that?” Other examples included a lot of “Hello’s,”

“Yo’s,” and “This is for . . . ,” plus amusing pictures for friends of, for example, a dog waving, a bongo player playing, or happy faces smiling or laughing. These upbeat acts of humor, whether written within the past week or past hour, were designed to help to build group cohesion and enliven people through a ritualized tradition within this theatre context.

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Objects/clothing.

Some actors/performers indicated that they enacted pre-show rituals in a certain order daily in terms of eating, resting, and dressing. Others wore Christian crosses or said a prayer prior to performances. One wore a lucky article of clothing to the theatre. All such superstitious behaviors added to the actors’ sense of confidence.

Green gaffer’s tape.

Prior to the opening night performance, I noted one of the crew putting green gaffers’ tape on everything on and around the stage. He claimed to me that this was a tradition among technical theatre folks. He explained that the green gaffers’ tape symbolizes how the technical staff help hold a production together with their crafts. He continued to reveal that a friend of his had learned about this traditional ritual in theatres in northern Ohio and Indiana. He also noted that our local professional theatre honored this tradition as well. So he had talked to the stage managers here, and they had positively sanctioned this ritual use here.

Conventional rituals.

In addition to telling everyone to “break a leg,” folks shared flowers, food, and cards prior to opening night as part of the convention of gift giving. Usually the flowers consisted of bouquets, including mixed spring flowers or roses. Homemade versus store bought candies and other sweets, like cookies and rice crispy bars, were brought in abundance. Cards were handed out individually as well as taped on the walls outside the dressing rooms for everyone’s benefit. Many cards and/or individual sentiments written on them were humorous.

Conclusions

This chapter has documented the results of the field observations, interviews, and other methods of collecting the ethnographic data relevant to the relationship between humor on the one hand and stress, tension, and/or anxiety (STAs) on the other in a particular milieu. The data was collected during the auditions, casting, rehearsals, and performances of a musical-theatre production at a large Midwestern

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university. The data was coded and studied to see what patterns emerged that would provide understanding into the relations between humor and STAs. Among the various patterns that developed, the most significant one was the over-arching and complimentary dichotomy between data gleaned from the “infrastructure” and that gleaned from the “interior spaces.” This dichotomy provided the organizing principle for this chapter.

The relationship between humor and STAs that was discovered in the infrastructure of this study focuses on three configurations into which the data arranged themselves. The first configuration is the data involving the ways the actors/performers and the directors functioned within the context of the structures and processes that ran from the auditions through the final performance. The second configuration is a survey of the kinds of humor used by various people in the production, specifically who engaged in what kinds of humor and with whom. The third is the data revealing the network of interrelationships that developed among the actors/performers and directors and the ways different members of the team used humor (or failed to use humor) as they moved through the processes and structures of mounting this production.

The other half of the overarching dichotomy, the interior spaces, describes the data in the subjective reports of all the subjects on the sources of their stresses, tensions, and anxieties. These feelings had their roots in inevitable parts of the process of learning roles, of competing with other actors/performers, of adjusting to criticism from directors, and of managing all kinds of interpersonal relationships, both within the production and in life situations outside the production.

The interior-spaces components of chapter three go further into the details of the reports on how various subjects felt that humor either helped or failed to help them in coping with esteem issues, socializing, regulating moods and emotions, managing creativity and spontaneity, and using techniques in preparing to perform.

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Chapter 4

DISCUSSION

In Chapter 4, we focus on a discussion of the findings of the current study. This discussion explores the role of humor as a means of relieving and/or regulating stress, tensions, and/or anxieties within a musical theatre context in order to improve stage role performances. Again, although the actors/performers constitute the central focus of the study, the production’s artistic and musical directors and its three stage managers, are considered as well. To a much lesser degree, also considered are the production’s designers, crew, and myself, the researcher. With this backdrop, the current discussion will interpret findings in light of recurrent patterns or themes. In addition, such interpretations and conclusions will be cast in terms of relevant literature from the fields of social psychology, anthropology, communications, theatre, and education. Finally, in the Conclusions section of this Chapter, implications from the current study will be addressed as well as directions for future research.

More specifically, the first three sections of Chapter 4, like those of Chapter 3, deal with the infrastructure of the rehearsal and production structures and processes. This, for one, includes the rehearsal process from auditions through musical, blocking, stagger-through, technical, and/or dress rehearsals to performances. Additionally, the infrastructure of this study includes who engaged in humor and how humor interfaced with seriousness throughout the production process. On the other hand, as done in Chapter 3, the last two sections of Chapter 4 focus on the interior spaces of the study: first, what contributed to participants’ stress, tensions, and/or anxieties, and second, what role humor played in helping participants cope with stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. The major headings of Chapter 3 have been altered in some minor ways in Chapter 4. In addition, a modest number of examples will be used within this Chapter based on their goodness of fit and efforts to avoid unnecessary redundancy.

The Infrastructure: Rehearsal and Production Structures and Processes

The following points summarize and outline patterns of humor usage as affected by stress, tension, and/or anxiety by, between, and among participants prior to and throughout rehearsals for Acts I and II of this

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musical-theatre production. Humor was an important aspect of the theatre experience, though participants varied in terms of the contexts that called for humor. Nonetheless, various contexts and situations stood on their own in terms of revealing patterns of humor usage regardless of individual opinions.

Auditions

First Night

Both prior to and during auditions anxieties were on the rise. Of all the phases of the production process, auditions generated the greatest amount of stress, tension, and/or anxiety. The anxiety experienced may be qualified as situational performance anxiety. “Performance anxiety,” per Robin et al.

(1995), is a generic term focusing on anxiety experienced before or during some kind of performance— acting, singing, dancing—in front of a public. According to Richmond et al. (1998), anxieties fall along a continuum from trait-like to state. Situational or state anxiety is not determined by any enduring personality traits or predispositions, as trait-like anxiety is, but by situations. Nearly 100% of the population experiences this type of anxiety.

Situational factors related to auditions that affected actors/performers included the formality and conspicuousness of the audition process, an institutional-looking and -feeling classroom, worry about authorities’ judgments, and competition with peers. Observations revealed signs of anxiety among actors/performers, such as semi-audibly rehearsing monologues and/or songs, focusing on their breathing, massaging each other’s shoulders, and pacing. Even talking and laughing with others were viewed as attempts to relieve tensions and anxieties.

Actors/performers reported other symptoms of situational anxiety during auditions as well due to various objects or subjects of worry. This category included competition, replete with worry about performing well in the eyes of self and others, criticisms and/or rejections from authority figures, namely the directors, accounted for the majority of actors’ fears at this point. Richmond et al. (1998) would refer to this as “audience-based anxiety,” a relatively enduring predisposition toward another person or group, usually authority figures.

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Some of these situational anxieties were to be expected based on the structures and expectations of auditions. Some were based on a lack of certainty regarding others’ responses. These included the new and/or novel, the ambiguous or unknown, the unexpected, ad libbing, and/or complexity, for example. Actors had no control over other people’s responses before and after their audition performances. Leary (1983), therefore, would refer to these as interaction anxiety spawned by contingent interactions because an individual’s responses were contingent at least in part on the responses of others.

On the other hand, greater predictability and clarity could be experienced about one’s performances during auditions as long as actors were prepared. Leary would refer to these as “noncontingent interactions” that lead to audience anxiety when others’ responses are important. Since performers had rehearsed and planned for others’ responses largely in this context, anxiety was less.

Additionally, in response to audience-based anxiety (Richmond et al., 1998), actors revealed a high need for acceptance and approval by carefully following directions and generally managing impressions carefully. Putting forth their best efforts involved what Goffman (1959, 1976) would call a front, or a politically correct mask to fit social norms and increase the likelihood that others would see them as desirable.

As Brissett et al. (1990) note, people in this study communicated strategically off stage or backstage in self-presentation encounters in order to manage impressions others formed and maintained about them, much like they did on stage. This allowed them to construct a social reality within the minds of others that depicted them as they wished others to see them. As Goffman (1976) notes, participants projected a view of themselves that was as good as, if not an improved version of, who they were supposed to be. They also tended when possible to make it apparent to others when they were performing well.

Actors/performers were observed to put their best selves forward in ways appropriate to the theatre. For example, they dressed up for auditions, and were friendly, positive, and mannerly. They

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attempted to be as on time as they could be, and remained quiescent and concentrated during auditions.

Preparation varied, though most prepared to a respectable degree.

As a special case in point, there were indications that singing generated the greatest anxieties for many participants. Richmond et al. (1998) refer to this type of anxiety as “context-based.” It is a personality-type orientation, occurring in around 60% of the population in specific performance contexts.

Various actors indicated that singing was more anxiety provoking for them than performing monologues and dancing. As Buss (1980) and Phillips (1977) indicate, fearfulness of an anxious response may lead to what Leary (1995) calls “social anxiousness.” Thus, some actors were fearful and anxious not only about auditioning, but singing in general.

The musical director demonstrated situational anxiety about finding males with appropriate types of singing voices—tenors, baritones, basses. He needed a mix of voices to fulfill the demands of various roles in this musical theatre production. He further was worried about locating singers trained well enough to handle the complex technical demands of the show, and this led to fears of failure about the show (Buss, 1980; Phillips, 1977).

Presumably largely because the musical theatre auditions required a monologue and song per participant, and because the artistic director would rather hear full-length songs instead of a standard sixteen bars, the round robin system began to fall behind schedule. The artistic director then appeared to become rushed and moderately anxious. Limited time constituted yet another situational factor contributing to everyone’s anxieties (Richmond et al., 1998)

Complexity was another situational factor contributing to participants’ stress and anxieties

(Richmond et al., 1998). Many felt that auditions were a three-ring circus that became complex, confusing, and physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing. Actors reported uneven performances, doing well in one session and not so well in another, owing to trouble shifting gears. This caused emotional chagrin in addition to, or other than, the anxieties created by complexity. Robin et al. (1995) indicate that anxiety may include feelings of embarrassment or shame about being anxious or a

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constellation of other negative emotions, such as low self-esteem, depression, anger, and panic. This might explain some of the negative reactions to the audition format in hindsight, and the stress experienced while they were going on (Seyle, 1978).

It is easy to see that because actors/performers were anxiety-ridden, they engaged in very little humor. As Labott et al. (1987), Martin et al. (1983), and Robinson (1983) point out, the less stress one experiences, the more one laughs and smiles. Those who value humor tend to use it as a coping mechanism, so that the more they engage in it, the more positive their effect.

Sometimes more than humor, actors/performers were observed engaging in behaviors to help them concentrate on their roles and/or to relax in a variety of ways to take their minds off their fears. Per

Clevenger (1959), there are three response domains for anxiety—physiological, cognitive, and behavioral.

As remedies for physical tensions, performers were observed applying massage therapy recommended for releasing bodily toxins, deep-breathing techniques, aerobic horseplay, and dancing (Padus, 1992). In order to change cognitions from negative to positive, humor was employed as well as positive, self- affirming, and coping thinking/feeling strategies (Padus). Furthermore, by engaging in social support systems, seeking feedback, and gaining approval and acceptance from peers, directors, and staff, actors gained ascendancy over their anxieties about their skills (Friel, 1999), and avoided the exhaustion stage

Seyle’s (1978).

Though actors/performers experienced a high degree of anxiety, the artistic and musical directors for this production modeled the kind of emotional tone or behavior they wanted their actors/performers to adopt. Modeling has enjoyed a position of prominence among scholars as a means of offsetting anxieties for years (Richmond et al., 1998). However, they were not perfect role models. The artistic directors, again, felt rushed, and the musical director was anxious to locate appropriate singers, particularly male singers. Still the directors mostly were lighthearted and upbeat, friendly, positive, respectful of students, non-critical, and approachable.

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Generating positive emotions can trigger positive cognitions (Zajonc, 1984), and can lead to relaxation (Maultsby, 1984). Of course, cognitions may precede and affect emotions (Ellis, 1995;

Lazarus, 1982). Either way, the directors were student-oriented and open, establishing a positive and upbeat mood. Even the box office manager and other faculty members who attended the audition said that they were trying to lend moral support to the students. The directors’ humor was verbal, and often directed to the half dozen non-auditioning individuals in the room rather than the actors/performers.

Their positive tone aided in relaxation.

The directors used only a small amount of humor during auditions. It appeared that it was enough to help relax the actors/performers, yet not so much as to overly activate them and perhaps break their concentration. This followed the advice from Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson (1983) that humor activates emotions, such as anxiety. In addition, the humor was aimed at stressful elements of the production process, such as ridiculing or satirizing the audition process itself, going over the allotted time limits, needing to find male vocalists to fit the demands of the production, and the drudgery or length of the auditions. By boldly making fun of various situational factors contributing to anxiety and avoiding humor aimed at individuals, the directors broke the ice, and afforded everyone their dignity.

Callbacks

Callbacks were much more relaxed and informal than auditions for all involved, even though this was exclusively a singing audition. Therefore, humor usage was increased for everyone (Martin et al.,

1983; Robinson, 1983). Naturally, some context- and authority-based plus situational anxieties remained regarding singing and the directors’ opinions while competing for roles (Richmond et al., 1998). But there was a decided levity present for callbacks that was absent for auditions. Many actors/performers already knew one another, the University and Department, and the directors and staff. As Berger (1987) points out, familiarity and similarity of purpose helped to offset situational tensions.

More specifically, the following situational factors, as noted by Richmond et al. (1998), contributed to an increase in humor and a decrease in anxiety during callbacks. Fewer people were

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present, thus leading to a more intimate context. Callbacks were held in the main stage theatre, a larger, warmer space. The directors engaged freely in more humor than at the first evening of auditions. In addition, Ted’s humor was aimed at instructing or coaching participants. Though this was a singing audition only, actors stood together on stage, which provided a shelter. Only a modest number of pairings and a limited number of roles were auditioned. Many songs were sung together, allowing soloists less conspicuous performances.

Humor itself was a catalyst to reduced stress and anxiety during callbacks. The artistic director, in particular, used verbal sarcasm and wit to nudge actors into a disciplined demeanor to do their best. In this way, humor served to make criticisms and directions more palatable (G. D. Wilson, 1994). Both directors engaged in a fast-paced banter back and forth with performers, thereby, not only setting the tone, but modeling the kinds of behaviors others could use and did (Richmond et al., 1998). In addition, both used self-deprecating humor as a congenial way of showing others they could play along, take a joke, and laugh at themselves (Wolf, 2002). In using this same type of humor, actors could diminish the consequences of what happened to them in their superiors’ eyes as well as their own (G. D. Wilson,

1994).

As noted by Martineau (1972), humor, if positive, can aid in social interactions. It does so by encouraging social integration. That is, in-group members (cast members and professional staff) enhanced their group’s morale and solidarity through the use of humor (Chapman, 1983). However, the top ranking participants (the artistic and musical directors) set the stage for humor. According to Coser, as reported in Provine (2000), humor tends to flow downward from high status to low status positions.

Time and again, we note that the directors initiated the humor, then the actors/performers and staff members followed suit.

Casting

Once a casting notice was posted announcing roles, there was at least for some a period of high stress and/or anxiety coupled with low humor usage (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983). This involved

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several who failed to gain roles they were auditioning for or either felt they deserved, had been promised, or should have been double cast into. Only one actor flatly declined acceptance of a role, however. All others at least eventually conceded to the directors’ opinions. However, they questioned and/or complained to the directors first, given their expectations and what actually occurred. According the

Richmond et al. (1998), anxieties are increased when our expectations and realities fail to harmonize.

Overall there was a wide range of responses to the casting. Indeed, the fear of negative evaluation, such as embarrassment or shame, failure or rejection, increased the desire for social approval

(Goffman, 1959, 1976; Graham et al., 1981). Also because these actors/performers knew and respected both directors, they were even more hurt when they did not receive roles they thought they should.

Therefore, they were more prone to voice their dissatisfactions. This follows the tenets of social- exchange theory, according to Jones et al. (1972): the more we share others’ opinion evaluations, the more positively we feel when they agree, and the more negatively we feel when they disagree with us.

Thus, it specifically helped actors to unload their negative emotions to the directors about their casting disagreements because they then in turn received from the directors the support, acceptance, and/or approval they needed. Airing suppressed and frustrated feelings helped the actors’ psyches to return to homeostasis (G. D. Wilson, 1994). Since all but one actor resolved to accept the directors’ casting decision, directors appeared to be successful in reaffirming and/or boosting the performers’ egos to make them feel safe, secure, and needed in their roles.

Indeed, part of the directors’ jobs in helping actors following casting involved listening and responding to performers, informing them as appropriate of why decisions were made, and ultimately calming them down while restoring their self-esteem. In a Department that held an open-door policy, doing anything less would have been difficult. So the directors took care to employ holistic and empathic listening as a means of neutralizing emotions and fostering trust and respect (Howell, 1982). This led to what Rogers (1961, 1980) refers to an “unconditional positive regard for others.” The directors also confirmed performers’ thoughts and feelings as important while attempting to empathize with what they

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perceived them to be thinking and feeling (Sieburg et al., 2000). Listening actively and openly was critical to creating a calming effect, according to such listening experts as Nichols et al. (1957) and

Wolvin et al. (1982).

On the other hand, both directors reportedly experienced a great deal of stress and tension while casting this show, which again decreased humor (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983). They spent hours ruminating over Departmental politics regarding upper and lower classmen, newcomers, individuals’ perceptions of their abilities and how these might vacillate if challenged, and considerations of who the directors felt they could work with best on this production. Their decisions also involved types of characters and performers’ talents.

The musical director felt that he was given little credit for making wise casting selections since some actors acted “traumatized” when they failed to receive the roles they wanted. Their questions and complaints indicated that they felt slighted, that they were not accorded full consideration, even though the directors had pondered a plethora of schemas over the course of many hours to the point of exhaustion in order to develop the best cast possible.

The artistic director was empathetic, noting that it was hard for actors to understand a director’s decisions. He further noted that even directors often agree to disagree about what constitutes best casting decisions. Such decisions may hinge on factors performers and others are not cognizant of, whether related to the script, the director’s vision, and/or personal preferences. Lack of information or the unknown then leads to uncertainties, which are hard to extinguish (Graham, 1995; Berger, 1987, 1988;

Berger et al., 1975).

A key reason why some students experienced an abundance of stress and tension about casting had to do with false perceptions of their own abilities. Our needs to gain approval and to avoid criticisms and rejection correlate with the tendency to overemphasize our positive attributes, especially among individuals who also have high self-esteem (Roth et al., 1986). If we do not have a high level of public self-consciousness as well, we are likely, according to Roth et al., to deny our negative characteristics

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unrealistically and instead to offer up a good defense rather than a good offense. This is true even though we are motivated to avoid criticisms and to encourage liking and approval (Goffman, 1959; Schlenker,

1980).

Another closely related explanation falls within the attribution theory tradition. Dies (1970) found that individuals high in the need for approval most often attribute blame for their failures to external factors, rather than accepting personal responsibility for them. Actors did this by pointing to their health, or lack of preparation, or life stressors, but they also compared themselves to others who accepted them and agreed with people whose approval they wanted. That is, they expressed attitudes that were complimentary to those of significant others.

Rehearsals

Musical Rehearsals

First three evening sessions.

With auditions, callbacks, and casting out of the way, the cast and staff were able to embark on their journey through rehearsals. The first three musical rehearsals included singing only. Overall, stress and/or anxieties were low, thus humor usage was up, the inverse relationship between stress and humor that Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson (1983) discuss. The musical director engaged in the most humor this first evening, setting the stage for future interactions. Maintenance as well as task functions were important to him (Barnlund et al., 1960). He not only used wit, storytelling, and self-deprecation, he used humor to build rapport, to gain acceptance for his work style, to generate spontaneity and creativity, to maximize on the quality of his limited rehearsal time, and to generate the high level of energy needed for sustaining performances. According to Chapman (1983), Ted, as the highest ranking authority in the show, was appropriately placed at the top of the pecking order to initiate humor. This was because, as

Coser (Provine, 2000) explains, humor flows downward from the top ranking staff members to the bottom. In addition, Pollio et al. (1996) as well as Provine (2000) and Coser note that males tend to be

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the initiators of humor whereas women tend to serve as avid laughers and appreciators of humor, which was typically true.

Shawn’s rehearsals, matching the rhythm and tempo of the production, were fast-paced. This further allowed Shawn the right pace for covering the abundance of musical score that he needed to cover in only three evenings. Humor helped Shawn generate immediacy (Wanzer et al., 1999), and when coupled with a quick pace, to keep folks’ attention (Derks, 1996; Gorham et al., 1988; Kelly et al., 1988).

Actors/performers engaged in humor during all three musical rehearsal sessions. However, their humor vacillated depending on how comfortable they felt and how seriously they perceived their work.

The first evening that they were warming up to the musical director, they used humor, but cautiously. In fact, when asked to reveal something funny that had happened to them that others would not know, many had trouble coming up with a story. Ironically, generally entertaining people were stumped, perhaps because they actually were stressed to some degree by situational factors, such as newness, unfamiliarity, and/or unknown elements of this group, this production, and/or their roles in it (Richmond et al, 1998).

Phillips (1977) would claim that their reticence was due to the perception that there was more to be gained by remaining quiet than by participating, presumably due to perceived skills deficit.

After realizing that the musical director was humorous and upbeat, the performers increased their humor usage even more the second evening, though they recognized that they had complex musical assignments to master. This evening the actors began to demonstrate physical as well as sexual forms of humor. These were paired with an increasing need for approval, as witnessed in their looking to both directors frequently for approval (Leary et al., 1995). This need for approval is further witnessed in

Schlenker’s (1980) expectancy-value theory, which notes that people are motivated to maximize rewards and minimize costs. Schlenker et al. (1982) also contend that people who have a high need for social approval typically have a high fear of rejection. Thus, in general the cast enjoyed more confidence than fear of rejection, but they still experienced self-doubt in terms of making favorable impressions on the directors and others.

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Naturally, confirming responses (Sieburg et al., 1971), including humor, fostered a supportive climate wherein mutual respect and trust could prevail leaving everyone feeling more confident in their own psycho-emotional security and status in the theatre group. Indeed, actors, feeling confident and confirmed by having been cast in the show had a chance to show off and have fun. An overall supportive and confirming climate allowed everyone the requisite conditions for beginning to build group rapport and cohesion.

Humor increased the first and second evenings. By the third evening, actors were better studied on their parts, thus more cognizant of the hard work required of them, and the level of humor diminished.

This shifted the mood from humorous to serious (concentrated, focused) yet positive (helpful, complimentary, friendly). Whereas group maintenance functions appeared to be the winning contender for attention at this point, the need to focus on the task functions of the group loomed in the not too distant future (Barnlund et al., 1960).

Further evidence that seriousness and task orientations increased together occurred during the third evening when both directors registered a mounting concern for performers’ health (Barnlund et al.,

1960). Observing some with colds, the directors talked to the group about taking care to preserve their energy and physical and vocal well-being. How to accomplish that was left up to each performer, since they knew best what to do to keep themselves healthy.

Musical warm-up sessions.

Seriousness about the show’s music continued through musical warm-up sessions held nightly during blocking rehearsals. Specifically, at the start of each blocking rehearsal, approximately the first half hour was devoted to musical warm-ups. The musical director, Shawn, played the piano while rehearsing both ensemble and solo numbers within the group. He selected what to rehearse according to the rehearsal schedule, the artistic director, and/or actors’/performers’ requests. Due mainly to time constraints, these sessions were mostly serious.

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Thus, a high degree of stress led to a high degree of seriousness and low levels of humor usage.

Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson (1983) propose that stress and humor share a negative correlation, though they do not discuss seriousness. As complexity and time constraints in the present study increased, so did seriousness, while humor decreased. Complexity was perceived in actors’ vocal work, and served as a kind of situational anxiety (Richmond et al., 1998). Thus, by consensus, the group cohered around the norm of sustaining a largely serious attitude while engaging in musical warm-ups.

These sessions were informal, but focused on articulation, projection, breathing, correct singing mechanics, and accurate music and lyrics.

Blocking and Choreographic Rehearsals

Act I and II blocking rehearsals.

As Act I blocking rehearsals began, humor usage again was high, thus anxieties were low (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983). People were refreshingly enthusiastic, energized, and upbeat. Barnlund’s et al. (1960) group building or maintenance functions, also referred to as process leadership, took precedence. There were many more blocking rehearsals than music rehearsals, thus tensions were even lower than for the first three evenings with Shawn. Everyone was desirous of others’ approval.

Therefore, they strived for good rapport and group cohesion (Lorenz, 1976; Pollio et al., 1996; G. D.

Wilson, 1994). Directors and stage managers led the humor usage by engaging predominantly in verbal forms of humor (Provine, 2002). Actors/performers followed their lead, but used mainly physical forms of humor.

Toward the end of rehearsals for Act I, humor decreased during on stage working sessions, and increased during off stage interactions, another distinct pattern in this research. Again, the more serious and concentrated people became while developing their characters, the less humorous they were. The need for seriousness was greater than the need for humor. However, humor continued, only off stage during formal and informal break periods.

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The types of instructions given for blocking were routine for theatre. They included instructions about positions, movements, and stage business. They also involved typical directions in the development of actors’ characters, emotional life, comic timing and pacing/tempo. Performers in this production felt that they received adequate instructions regarding the former. However, in the latter categories, the directors provided less modeling and reinforcement (Richmond et al., 1998). As Schlenker

(1980) notes, this minimized expected rewards, leading to increased anxieties. Lack of feedback also led to uncertainties and frustrations among performers, as predicted by Berger (1987) and Berger et al.

(1975).

Overall, the use of humor was presumed to help actors cope with their anxieties when faced with blocking instructions, but in the case of the show’s controlling concept, character and emotional development, and comic techniques and timing, humor was unsuccessful in eradicating tensions. Some anxieties regarding uncertainties were natural given the newness of the rehearsal process. Some were due to the perceived lack of time and/or effort on the directors’ parts. But when it came to the essential acting elements noted above, actors took themselves and their work very seriously, so much so that when the directors failed to given them ample feedback, they turned to outsiders for help, such as peers and other teachers and directors.

Interestingly, humor did appear to be successful in moderating levels of stress when it came to dealing with criticisms (Chapman, 1983; Robinson, 1983). When mistakes needed pointing out or actors/performers needed chided into doing their best, directors routinely employed humor to gain results.

Whether they were chided for mistakes in comic timing or lines or something more central to their acting techniques, the directors engaged in corrective feedback using humor (Wolf, 2002). By everyone’s admissions, this not only helped actors cope with added stress associated with criticisms, but motivated them to instate changes. In addition, requests for changing blocking helped actors cope with awkward positions, movements, and/or stage business, and presumably lessened any tensions around such issues.

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The directors’ references to the context of this theatre event – a college setting – established similarity or common ground that helped participants build relationships through shared contextual norms. That perceived similarity increases attraction is one of the most well validated principles in relational research, according to Griffin (2003) and DeVito (2004). Again, scholars like Berger (1987,

1988) note that perceived similarity reduces uncertainty as well as decreased uncertainty increases liking.

Thus, as perceived similarity and liking increased, statuses were equalized. The playing field was leveled.

Furthermore, both directors, especially the artistic director, made fun of themselves as college professors to a degree that endeared them to the cast. As Wolf (2002) and G. D. Wilson (1994) would postulate, this ultimately earned them respect and positive regard from the actors, since they became non- threatening, approachable faculty members with greater psychological immediacy. Richmond et al.

(1998) note that immediacy is the psychological or physical closeness we feel with others through their verbal and nonverbal behaviors, including humor. Factors contributing to immediacy may include verbal praises and encouragements as well as physical eye contact, close proximity, and talking on another’s level. Thus, humor helped the directors establish healthy and productive humorous relationships with cast members.

With the onset of Act II blocking, humor tapered off again and all participants grew more serious.

Since this was the beginning of the end so to speak, there was a greater degree of seriousness about getting the task functions done (Barnlund et al., 1960). Thus, humor was down for all. As expected, since humor has distinct pecking orders from the top to the bottom of a status hierarchy, the directors led this change (Provine, 2000; Chapman, 1983).

Of course situational factors or changes also contributed to the group’s shift to seriousness

(Richmond et al., 1998). Their seriousness was marked by worry about how the show was going, the lack of time remaining to get it right, and the growing realization that soon audiences would watch every move made on stage. As technical elements were introduced with growing frequency, the reality of a live

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production became pronounced. Maintenance functions, having been established, were low in importance

(Barnlund et al., 1960). The task of polishing roles while integrating the technical aspects of the show now took precedence, and added to tensions and anxieties (Robin et al., 1995). Fortunately, actors’ energies increased at this point, which aided them in rising to the occasion of generating greater polish and believability in their roles to meet audience expectations for quality art (Bayles et al., 1993).

In addition, the style used to direct the second act differed from that used for Act I. Both directors effected such changes, as leaders of the group (Provine, 2000; Chapman, 1983). Blocking occurred simultaneously with several groups. It was more of a patchwork of instruction with various plates spinning at the same time. The director got one group going as he started another. This style of directing appeared more informal, and therefore, less anxiety-provoking. As DeVito (2004) notes, informality lessens one’s perception of such anxiety-ridden factors as evaluation, conspicuousness, and status differences, thus reducing stress and tensions. Again, as evidenced during the latter part of Act I rehearsals, humor on stage declined in favor of humor usage off stage.

Acts I and II choreographic instructions.

Whereas the blocking rehearsals unleashed physical humor among the actors, choreographic rehearsals unleashed sexual as well as physical urges. There was a lot of slapstick, flirting and touching, giggling, seductive poses, postures, movements, vocalizations, and sexual innuendos during these times.

G. D. Wilson (1994) concludes that humor is a means of releasing taboo impulses, such as sexual and/or aggressive thoughts and actions, in socially acceptable ways. For example, Gruner (1997) noted that sexual humor, like all humor, involves a win-lose relationship, such that someone can delight in one of the sexes losing to the other. For example, this group engaged in sexual humor that dealt with the young and the old, males and females, pre-marital sex, homosexuality, prostitution, and orgies. As Wilson noted, this is what Freud refers to as libidinous material. Freud also asserted that humor involves technique, the formal structures used to tell jokes. Techniques provide the social excuses for or masks behind which to hide taboo feelings. Thus, they help us with criticisms, competition, and conflicts.

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On the other hand, according to Gruner (1997), Freud referred to innocent forms of humor, which might include jesting frequently for the purpose of showing off, displaying oneself, or exhibiting oneself sexually. Such sexual exhibitions, which were characteristic of members of this ensemble, are said to fall within the province of superiority theory (Wolf, 2002). That is, sexual humor demonstrates physical if not verbal superiority over others. For the most part in this study, humor, sexual and otherwise, may be characterized as innocent humor.

However, nearly all sexual behavior was humorous, but it ranged from laughable to merely amusing to onlookers, whether intentional or not. Amusement may be defined as a phenomenon involving the ability to view events as non-practical ends in and of themselves; they are events we can enjoy without trying to possess or change them (Morreall, 1987). They are strictly playful events that often involve aesthetic pleasure (Caron, 2002). Some sexual behavior was intentionally designed by players themselves to create positive responses from onlookers. Such behaviors appeared to be reminiscent of contemporary cultural connections—that is, behaviors displayed in current day films, music videos, television programs, and concerts, for example (Neelands, 1990). This kind of physical or sexual humor was energizing, and promoted spontaneity and creativity among participants. Even the production staff mirrored the mood.

Not only was the ensemble’s sexual humor physical, it was psychological as well. Their psychological state of mind shifted from playful or serious to seductive. Whether psychological predispositions preceded physical postures and movements or vise versa was unclear. But, as Chapman

(1996) notes, humor and laughter serve the functions of alleviating various forms of arousal in socially acceptable and physically harmless ways. It can be a safety valve prohibiting excessive social arousal that results from the psychological presence of others.

Also sexual humor in particular may have had social facilitative functions for participants by helping them release underlying aggressive and/or sexual impulses while at the same time psychologically distancing them from others so they did not become intimate with them.

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According to Goffman (1959), role distance is the space we create between people that protects us from what our roles imply about us. This occurs because we become interested in conforming to social norms at the expense of our inner most impulses and drives. But we also want to reveal some of our individuality. When we feel uncomfortable, we caution others not to take our roles too seriously, and perhaps to allow us to reveal our true natures.

Abel (2002) found that role distancing helped to mediate our personal feelings and actions by shifting us away from negative affect toward problem-solving. In this way, humor served to restructure situations and to support people by helping them buffer physical symptoms and adopt cognitive coping strategies. The result is a more positive affect.

We might consider also educational literature that deals with the complexities of behavioral learning. Vastly different levels of learning require cognitive, affective, and behavioral or psychomotor domains of complexity (Borich, 2004). The affective and behavioral domains are of particular interest here. For example, as Borich points out, actors’ blocking and choreography involved receiving

(attending, discerning) and responding (complying, discussing) to the directors’ input. These are both stages in affective development. It also involved valuing (preferring, expressing), organizing (selecting, defining), and characterizing (internalizing, managing, exhibiting) behaviors that would embody characterizations and emotional development. Regarding the behavioral domain, imitation was required to act in role. However, models and instructions were missing to the degree desired for aiding students in manipulating the imitative process. Thus, they felt they were ill advised regarding comic technique and timing. Instead students were expected to head right into efforts to generate precision (accuracy), articulation (confidence and harmony), and eventually naturalization (effortless, automatic, routine performances).

Ultimately one dimension was capable of affecting the other regardless of which came first— physical or psychological sexual humor. Seductive physical postures and movements described more fully in the results chapter, Chapter 3, went hand in hand with seductive mental and emotional attitudes.

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The seductive mental and emotional attitudes of the actors revealed themselves not only through physical gestures, but vocalizations, such as ah-has, uh-huhs, and laughter. According to Halonen and Santrock

(1996), the Cannon-Bard theory of emotion is a physiological theory of emotion that states, “emotion and physiological reactions occur simultaneously” (p. 471). On the other hand, the James-Lang theory states

“emotion results from physiological states triggered by stimuli in the environment” (p.471). This might be used for explanations of how choreographic session charged participants’ emotions.

Furthermore, seductive mental and emotional attitudes as well as seductive body language indicated that the ensemble and directors, particularly the artistic director, positively valued sexuality – their own as well as that of others. The characteristic energy, spontaneity, and buoyancy of these behaviors moved beyond the routine discipline of rehearsals to a refreshingly welcomed level of freedom to explore and create while making full use of the actors’ instrument—their bodies, emotions, and voices.

Their rhythms consisted of songs of the body and soul, as contagious as any song in the head, but less fragmented and echoic. On the contrary, the songs of the body were spontaneous and experimental.

Actors appeared to become energized, spontaneous, fluid, free, and organically expressive. Everyone seemed air borne. Their sexuality took on a buoyant quality through physical, vocal, and psychological manifestations. As Pollio (1983) claims, the upward movement of the corners of the mouth translates into the perception of an uplifting or buoyant disposition. Lefcourt (2001) also refers to the buoyant effect of humor.

Leary et al. (1990) note that people are drawn towards self-esteem enhancing reactions. Thus, on one dimension, people are motivated to act in ways that fulfill their self-identity characteristics in social roles. Seductive or sexual actions were viewed as desirable characteristics to possess, thus necessary for approval from peers and others. Presumably, many actors identified with the seductive behaviors of each other and local and media figures their age.

In addition, so much energy was released during the choreographic sessions that several additional observations were noted. First, Richmond et al. (1998) discuss increased physiological

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activation. According to them, it is often referred to as getting psyched up before a game or performance.

It not only is normal, but essential for quality performances. For one, it was by time hard to grab actors’/performers’ attention. It took time to simmer them down. Second, all emotions appeared heighten during these engagements. Third, since dancing turned the actors/performers on physically and psychologically, they were more predisposed to experience positive emotions (Deckers, 1998; Martin,

Kuiper, et al., 1993). Successes were greeted with joy and/or pride, explorations were enacted with abandon and humor, and playfulness increased even in the face of criticisms. Events and responses to them were positively heightened, and generated humor, as Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001) notes. Everyone smiled in response. Eventually, notes and review run-throughs brought everyone back down to earth.

Review Run-Through Rehearsals

Moreover, as actors/performers launched into review rehearsals for Acts I and II, they were on their own to execute performances that would bring their roles to life. There were four review run- throughs for Act I and three for Act II. One focused on pieces from both Acts. These rehearsals allowed everyone to pull their roles into a coherent whole.

Notes from Ted and Shawn began to include more remedial comments. Performance anxieties were on the rise, as performance standards were increased. This drove actors to become more discerning and critical of themselves, others, and the production as a whole. As noted by Schlenker et al. (1982), this in turn then stimulated an escalating need to make favorable impressions on the directors and others in order to receive their approval. Thus, additional situational factors, as noted by Richmond et al. (1998), were noted to correlate with humor, including performance standards, self and other criticisms, and need for approval.

Such anxieties were compounded by the fading energies of many actors/performers and production staff based on what Seyle (1978) would refer to as the exhaustion stage of GAS. Work schedules, the demands of college classes, and personal lives on top of rehearsals all were taking their toll. Most began to show signs of fatigue, particularly given the four-hour length of rehearsals at the end

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of perhaps ten to fourteen hour days. This caused some humor to subside, only to return again once actors/performers became comfortable with their roles. After all, humor was a means of lightening the burdens of school and work life, making the rehearsal process fun and enjoyable. In this regard, humor was equated with having fun, as Podilchak (1992) notes, as a type of social interaction most common among friends. This could occur with friends or authority figures, since it leveled the playing field through leisure or play.

It became clear at this point that the artistic director, and to a lesser extent, the musical director, believed that maturity played a large role in how exploratory and creative cast members could be. The artistic director asked actors to try new approaches to their roles each rehearsal, but only a few did that.

He refused to tell performers how to interpret their characters fully, although his notes offered guidance.

Whether actors had the skills required or not, most rose to the occasion believing that they did. As

Richmond et al. (1998) point out, much depends on how a person perceives situations and their abilities and responses to it.

Again, the review run-throughs involved very little stopping and starting to polish various units or moments in the show. Instead scenes and Acts were run from top to finish without interruptions. Thus, they were simulations of performances. The director felt that this was the best approach since one unit or scene structurally flowed into the next, and since running the Acts without stopping would help the actors/performers learn to perform their roles organically for performances. By learning roles organically, the director meant that actors/performers would remember their roles at a physical level until they no longer would have to think about them. They would remember them automatically.

For example, Shawn noted that certain actors/performers could only remember their lyrics when doing their dance steps. Santrock (2003) and Matlin (2002) explain this phenomenon by referring to controlled versus automatic processing of information as falling respectively at high and lower levels of awareness. Santrock notes that Freud noticed these differences: controlled processing is marked by a highly focused state of awareness or consciousness aimed at achieving a goal, such as performing a role.

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Automatic processing involves some awareness, but minimal attention, to achieving a goal, such as singing a song, given the song can be sung almost on automatic pilot. This is because when an individual has rehearsed an action enough, it moves from a controlled to an automatic state of consciousness.

As the saying goes, redundancy is the essence of learning. In effect, actors learned their blocking, musical rhythms, notes, lyrics, and dances as combinations of actions performed simultaneously. Such complex simultaneous actions are said to be organic responses that allow actors to deepen their experiences with a character—what Stanislavski (1936) would refer to as his or her inner life as well as outer mannerisms. Craik et al. (1972) established a new model of levels of processing that further explains how one more deeply or extensively processes information to create better retention. Using examples, self-referencing, and other tools of elaboration aid in the depth of memory (Craik et al., 1975).

Matlin (2002) notes that automatic processing is parallel, and is used for simple, familiar tasks whereas controlled processing is serial, and is used for complex, unfamiliar tasks.

Over time actors/performers became less accurate with their music, according to the musical director, Shawn. Because the directors did not stop and correct such areas, bad habits were formed in some cases, particularly with the lyrics. Side coaching was used as a means of corrective instruction for such cases, but on a limited basis. Not enough time was devoted for corrections to polish the show to a high level of technical accuracy.

Various actors would have liked more stopping and starting during review run-throughs in order to polish their performances. They were particularly interested in greater feedback concerning their characters, and how they fit into the big picture with the rest of the ensemble. A more detail oriented rehearsal process was perceived to be at least one way to gain greater feedback about the aforementioned aspects of performance. They also turned to their peers, other teachers, and sessions outside of the formal rehearsals with this show’s directors.

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Notes

Relying on humor to present notes palatably was status quo for this production. Notes involved feedback sessions regarding how well actors/performers were performing. This allowed everyone to receive criticisms as well as praises in an upbeat, non-threatening fashion without being embarrassed (G.

D. Wilson, 1994; Chapman, 1983). Not only were notes delivered humorously, but clearly and swiftly as well. For most people, humor offset stressors, tensions, and/or anxieties associated with critical feedback

(Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983).

In addition, the driving force to move clearly and quickly through note-giving sessions appeared to have several additional benefits. First, it kept actors from becoming bogged down in negativity.

However, the artistic directors’ impulse to move quickly was owing to his directing experiences in perhaps Summer Stock Theatre and/or his personal preferences. Second, moving quickly helped to capitalize on maximizing everyone’s coverage of material so as not to waste time. Third, humor created an upbeat mood or tone.

Performers responded with routine thank you responses to the production staff’s feedback during notes. This form of etiquette (e.g., saying thank you after receiving a note) respectfully acknowledged that the directors’ and stage managers’ notes were heard and understood. It also allowed the overall climate of rehearsals to remain positive despite the critical nature of note-giving sessions, and it allowed note-giving sessions to proceed quickly and uninterruptedly. In this way, a positive group climate was fostered and maintained (Beebe et al., 2003).

Also according to Lorenz (1976), mannerisms, as civilized and obeyed norms for how to act politely, served to keep conciliation and/or social cohesion high. Norms are socially constructed codes for conduct that include laws, mores, and folkways (Hess et al., 1996). Saying thank you after receiving a note falls within the category of mores; mores are norms that dictate how to behave in ethical and moral ways to maintain social order. The sanctions are informal, but strongly held and enforced. Thus, newcomers were observed to adapt quickly to the practice of saying thank you after each one of their

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notes based on their clear understanding of what constituted appropriate relationships with their directors and staff.

Though a practice learned in an introductory theatre course, or while in rehearsals, a few noted that they carried this practice with them outside of the University. Some voiced that it was a universal form of theatre etiquette. Others thought that if it was not universal, it should be. Yet others asserted that they would use this etiquette in the theatre at large because they valued it and felt it made the best sense for the respect and order it added to note-giving sessions.

Actors’/performers’ discipline in terms of processing their notes was rated as average by the directors’, stage managers’, and researcher’s points of view. Lack of discipline had the potential to lead to stress and tension, and formed yet another example of a situational factor contributing to stress, as noted by Richmond et al. (1998). Many never wrote their notes down. Others failed to instate changes in subsequent run-throughs. So the same notes were repeated often. Ted, the artistic director, noted that in his experiences juniors and seniors dealt with notes better than freshmen and sophomores. Part of this is due to a lack of a prerequisite vocabulary among these young actors to understand and assimilate feedback from notes. That is, many lacked the theatre vocabulary and skills necessary for interpreting directors’ feedback.

Others, especially inexperienced actors, liked to avoid public criticisms, yet another situational factor affecting stress (Richmond et al., 1998). Thus they would fail to ask questions at rehearsals to clarify their understanding of their notes. According to Ted, individual personalities also played a role in how well certain actors listened to and digested notes. Moreover, many turned to their peers for interpretations of notes, a practice that was positively sanctioned by the artistic director. This was an easy alternative, since actors could enjoy camaraderie with their peers inside or outside of rehearsals while at the same time gaining insights into others’ perceptions of and about the directors’ feedback to them. As reported, most actors interacted with others about their notes because they presumably were motivated to make preferred impressions on others (Schlenker et al., 1982).

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Over time significant notes and those emphasized through repetition appeared to sink in for the actors. Presumably, this was due to more time to interact with others and more individual time to think about how to translate verbal notes into actionable terms. We must not forget the additional consideration of actors’ levels of motivation in using their notes better. Motivation levels varied. Those who were motivated to make preferred impressions on others, but doubted that they could do so, grew anxious; the converse also was true (Schlenker et al., 1982). Frymier (1994) notes that state motivation (e.g., situations and goals that motivate us) mediates between immediacy and learning. According to

Richmond et al. (1998), immediacy is the psychological and physical closeness present between people as a result of certain verbal and nonverbal behaviors. So the more positive participants’ encounters with each other, the more likely they were to maintain a positive outlook, to focus on the task functions of the production, and to learn and develop. Humor played a central role in all facets of this process.

Positive group morale, integration into the group, and solidarity with cohorts was fostered by humor, according to Chapman (1983) and Martineau (1972). In addition, Richmond’s et al. (1992) notion of immediacy, physical and psychological closeness, aided what Ziv (1979) and Kelley et al. (1988) explain as attention gaining and holding. Frymier (1994) supports this theory (1994). Immediacy is arousing, thus, seizes and maintains attention. Humor is one way not only to arouse attention, but to generate immediacy.

The time allotted per staff member to give notes after each run-through varied. The artistic director was given the vast majority of available time, presumably since he had oversight for the entire production. Thus, he gave acting, singing, and dancing notes all three. The musical director was given a relatively brief amount of time, and the stage manager was given even less time for notes. It would have been preferable for Shawn to have more time to increase the immediacy of his feedback. As Verderber et al. (2005) notes, the more immediate the feedback and the greater the potential for two-way interaction between participants, the better, given this provides the best chance for clarification to improve the accuracy of communication.

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Many young, less seasoned and experienced actors reportedly contacted directors outside of rehearsals to explore the meanings of their notes. Obviously they were motivated to perform well to the degree that they would solicit help outside of routine rehearsal times (Schlenker et al., 1982). Shawn routinely gave notes to performers outside of rehearsals. Fewer came to Ted than to Shawn for outside feedback unless Ted requested them to do so, primarily because Shawn reportedly offered to work with students outside of rehearsals, had a studio office with a piano unit, and literally would pull performers in during the day.

Again, Ted felt that whether notes were given privately or publicly, typically the older, seasoned, more highly trained actors/performers were more adept at utilizing notes meaningfully. For one, these actors/performers would write notes down as a rule. Second, they possessed the vocabulary, skills, and understanding for interpreting notes meaningfully. Third, they had the experience to turn notes into actionable terms on stage.

Fourth, as seasoned actors/performers, they became experts about their characters. Even less experienced actors grew to have a commanding understanding of their characters. The artistic director noted that they all became better able to determine if a director’s notes fit and how as time went by. This included higher order cognitive processing, what Borich (2004) would refer to as part of the cognitive domain of complexity in learning theory. Bloom, Englehart, Hill, Furst, and Krathwohl (1984) developed a taxonomy that delineates six levels of cognitive complexity. These range from least to most complex as follows: knowledge, comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation. Notes, then, needed interpreted at the levels of application (use, prepare, modify), analysis (differentiate, distinguish, illustrate), and synthesis (create, produce, design) at least. Evaluation then would involve appraising, justifying, and defending their actions

Moreover, mature actors/performers were seen as better able to experiment with a range of possibilities for their characters. Whether experienced or not, most actors/performers remained positive during note-giving sessions, respectful of their directors and others, and cooperative in terms of trying to

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heed their directives. But not all functioned at a high level of cognitive skill, nor were they provided with training to do so in this production process.

Since actors/performers could not see the production from the audience’s point of view, they needed to rely on the directors to be the eyes and ears for the production. According to Del Close, a director of improvisational comedy at The Second City in Chicago, actors need a director’s eye out front

(McCrohan, 1987). There was a tacit understanding among the cast and crew of this fact, and most honored it.

The artistic director, Ted, was particularly pleased to be mentoring so many young actors within this production, including some freshmen in lead roles for the first time. As much as anything, he indicated that their attitudes were very important since they would be accepted and approved for future productions based on their professionalism within this one. Self-fulfilling prophecy may be an explanation for why actors/performers utilized Goffman’s (1959) impression-management techniques.

As part of applied symbolic interaction, self-fulfilling prophecy involves our tendency to respond commensurately with how others or we ourselves expect us to act; that is, we tend to behave according to what we predict for ourselves (Griffin, 2003). Overall, Ted felt that the young as well as more seasoned actors/performers demonstrated positive attitudes regarding feedback and notes while working on this production. Although they varied in their abilities to interpret and utilize their notes, actors/performers were perceived by the artistic director to try hard and to remain true to the show.

Breaks

Break time was time for humor, but not humor alone. Break times were both formal and informal. Formal breaks occurred every one to two hours, and were called by the stage manager.

Informal breaks occurred before and after rehearsals. They also occurred during rehearsals whenever some actors were not performing on stage, but part of the ensemble was. During these times, performers engaged in congenial talking and the rehearsing of lines, blocking, and/or songs. They did so whether alone or in groups, with or without the directors. They furthermore may have spent time resting, eating or

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drinking, smoking, catching up on homework, or resting. Whatever the activity performed or reason for them, break times were designed to lessen stress and/or anxieties. As such, they generally were positive rather than negative.

As Act I progressed and Act II began, actors engaged in humor more frequently during formal and informal break periods. Their humor came in the form of personal or other-related stories meant to build relationships, stimulate creativity and spontaneity, and mediate conflicts. They then helped one another sustain humor in their interactions to meet their obligations to cultivate positive and meaningful on and off stage relationships. Overall these times were positive, though there was some complaining and gossiping.

The latter patterns of behavior appeared to help actors unload negative feelings in order to keep them from escalating. This was dissimilar to venting emotions. Such interactions did not appear to contribute to low morale or add to competition and conflicts overall.

Lefcourt (2001) further found that individuals who cope well with stress avoid negative emotions for any length of time and instead strive to minimize and replace them. Martin et al. (1983) note that those who value humor tend to employ it as a coping mechanism for stress. As such, humor becomes the moderator between a recent life event and one’s mood. The more one engages in humor in the face of stress, the more positive his or her affect, and vise versa.

More and more performers and production staff reported going out after rehearsals to socialize. It appeared that this indicated increased levels of trust and support. As Griffin (2003) notes, traits such as honesty, fairness, trustworthiness, and believability, part of Aristotle’s virtuous character traits, enhanced perceived source credibility.

Further, Griffin cites Thibaut’s and Kelley’s social exchange theory as another explanation for actors’ social behavior. That is, actors, like others, sought to maximize their benefits from social interactions with others and to minimize their costs. Thus, they were motivated to develop positive relationships by employing behaviors to help them realize positive outcomes in those relationships.

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Going out after rehearsals, and employing humor in or outside of rehearsals, were key strategies.

Relations outside of rehearsals probably were indicative of increasing seriousness as time went by, and also of a change in the structure of Act II, and therefore in Ted’s directing style for that Act.

There were various kinds of humor used during breaks. In certain instances, the humor used included joking about events that occurred during that given rehearsal. In other instances, individuals shared stories about experiences relevant to the theatre or simply personal stories from either the near or distant past. Some individuals chose to release themselves physically through funny play making behaviors. Yet others made fun of behavioral patterns, such as smoking patterns, among participants in the production. Some tried to gain acceptance and approval from others using humor. In other cases, people tried to humor another in order to keep them from being too serious, for example, by urging them to stop studying so much.

Stagger-Through Rehearsals

There were five stagger-through rehearsals. As they began, a concerted effort was made on everyone’s part to bring the show to fruition. More technical aspects were added into the production, though the full slate of technical elements would not be present until technical rehearsals. It was clear that the mounting technical elements added to the credibility or authenticity of time, place, and character, thereby helping actors energize and deepen their insights into or appreciation of their roles. Indeed, the thoughts and feelings of characters and meanings inherent in their roles began to grow more cogent. All of this aided comic timing, emotional development, characterization, and overall production pacing and tempo. For example, generally speaking, the final dance numbers per Act began to demonstrate the emotional tone and rhythm required by the show—playful, uplifting, joyful, and adventuresome versus painful, sad, remorseful, and ashamed. Other solo numbers and duets likewise grew emotionally fuller and richer, as did much of the dialogue throughout the production. As a result of an increasing desire to pull the show together, certain victories in comic timing, pacing and tempo, and/or emotional tone began to occur naturally.

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This was a time when what Frymier (1994) calls state motivation was high. State or situational motivation is the urge to do well. It is predicated on the anticipation of audiences viewing this theatre piece in the very near future. Rather than a distressful situation fraught with phobic feelings of anxiety, according to Seyle (1978), this might have been a time of “eustress” complete with feelings of perceived, anticipated, or real pleasure. Richmond et al. (1998) further also note that physiological responses of activation may be interpreted positively, fostering feelings of eustress, or negatively, fostering feelings of distress (Seyle, 1978).

The musical theatre ensemble grew close, embracing what they had learned to date in order to concentrate on doing their best. Again, as noted by Ziv (1979), Kelley et al. (1988), and Frymier, humor aided in the attention and retention necessary for learning their roles earlier. The ensemble now followed the directors’ lead by growing more serious and concentrated while at the same time freely giving of themselves to perfect their roles. Thus, stagger-through rehearsals grew more serious and focused with the group’s motivation to do well.

Interestingly, several other behavioral changes occurred during stagger-through rehearsals. These may be viewed as situational factors (Richmond et al., 1998; DeVito, 1986). These indicate less stress and greater comfort levels. First, the actors engaged in more interaction with me, presumably because, having habituated to me, they no longer harbored distrust or suspicion. Second, they exhibited greater territoriality in terms of space for their belongings. Goffman (1971) would refer to these behaviors as involving central markers that reserve your space for you, like placing your coats and book bags in the same place each rehearsal. Third, they seemed to gain greater clarity with regard to their acting, singing, and dancing talents, and what their own strengths and weaknesses were as well as those of others. The notion of a triple threat marked the ideal from which they now appeared to have a more realistic view of themselves. Martin, Kuiper, et al. (1993) note that appraisal-focused coping strategies involved interpreting individual experiences in ways that reduced stress. Thus, as stress mounted within the

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production process, it was unsurprising that actors adopted more realistic self-appraisals in order to reduce their stress and enhance their roles.

Perhaps needs for acceptance, liking, and approval were waning as the motivation to do well waxed. Actors appeared to have greater ownership in their roles. They were coming into their own, thus they had truer senses of their abilities and what their roles required (Martin, Kuiper, et al., 1993). Most grew confident, which indicated reduced uncertainties about roles, thus allowing performers to experience less need for approval from others and greater motivation to do well (Graham, 1995; Berger, 1987; Berger et al., 1975).

The technical designers, staff, and crew viewed the final two stagger-through rehearsals. They demonstrated such a high level of energy, enthusiasm, and responsiveness to actors’ performances with applause, whistles, yelps, and every a couple of standing ovations. Their generosity and positive contributions catapulted the actors into their best overall performances to date (Verderber et al., 2005).

Again, positive feedback prompted quality performances.

Technical and/or Dress Rehearsals

There was one dry tech rehearsal without the cast and one technical rehearsal with them. During this time, actors moved their belongings to the dressing rooms back stage. They also had to get used to the new crew and technical elements, including lighting, sound, special effects, final hair, makeup, and costume changes, and set changes. New elements in the environment represented additional situational elements affecting anxieties (Richmond et al., 1998). This also created environmental stress, as noted by

Seyle (1978) and Holmes et al. (1967).

Boredom was yet another situation factor during the technical rehearsal that contributed to the use of humor (Richmond et al., 1998). The purpose of this time was to help the crew check and rehearse their new cues, so essentially it was a walk-through for performers. Engaging in humor was a way for actors/performers to pass the time amusingly and quickly. It also helped them cope with their stressors

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and potential conflicts with new crew. However, they did not interfere with the crew’s need to practice cues.

Once the three dress-technical rehearsals began, the simplicity of rehearsals was gone. The production was now technically demanding and focused on the actors/performers. The group had reached a sophisticated level of ritualized responsibility that required mental, emotional, and physical stamina and adaptation. The complexity of the situation is another situational factor that contributed to seriousness and anxiety (Richmond et al., 1998). With the technical elements, including the orchestra, fully mounted and stress on the rise, humor usage decreased. This was evidenced in the overall grumpiness of many people and in the increased conflicts between and among the cast and crew, reportedly due to diva moments, jealousies, and self-centered hindrances. Humor continued to taper off until after the start of the performances. Instead actors/performers continued to work harder and harder for a seamless show, one that would take on a life of its own. Again, the pattern repeats itself: when stress is up, seriousness and hard work are on the rise, and humor is on the decline (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983).

Performances

There were eleven performances overall. Each had a unique audience and a life of its own. The mood on stage for performances was serious, something the group evolved toward throughout the rehearsal process. Whereas notes were humorous and instructive, prior to each performance, the artistic director, Ted, gave what are known in the theatre as Green Room talks. Each Green Room talk was serious and inspirational in contrast to notes. Moreover, these talks were not about what each actor needed to do to enhance their performances, as was the case with notes. Rather the purpose of the Green

Room talks was to focus the group’s energies on quality performances, and to instill in them a sober, attentive, and focused mood within which they could easily fulfill this goal. These talks also provided advise about audiences, revealed stories about individual audience members, or shared audience responses from past performances. Ted also advised actors via his own personal stories and encouragements, and further nudged them to avoid ad libbing, upstaging, and growing sloppy in terms of

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timing and energy. Announcements were made at this time too, including, for example, upcoming cast and crew parties, a photo shoot, sign-ups for interviews with me, and the final strike of the show.

Opening Night

Opening night was an exciting event for all. Given everyone’s energy and excitement levels were high, humor usage was up as well. Gifts, food, flowers, cards, and parties augmented these positive behaviors, emotions, and moods. Actors wrote upbeat graffiti, and offered each other praises, best wishes, and congratulations. All of these behaviors were part of cultural conventions, rituals, and/or superstitions of the theatre (Schechner, 2002; G. D. Wilson, 1994). Again, this type of excitement is what

Seyle (1978) would call eustress, a positive type of physical activation Richmond et al. (1998) would refer to as “keyed up” or “excited.”

The positive mood of the evening contributed to a solid opening performance. Since many family members and friends were in the audience, audience response was positive and robust with a lot of laughter and hearty applause. All mistakes during the show, and there were more than a few, were covered well. Again, the positive mood and feedback from the audience worked together to generate a positive performance (Verderber et al., 2005). According to learning theory, positive reinforcement provided the rewards needed to increase the frequency of quality stage behaviors; negative reinforcement did just the opposite (Borich, 2004).

Subsequent Nights

The performances themselves grew predictable. That is, actors were consistent in their acting, singing, and dancing. What made a difference to them was the energy and enthusiasm with which they performed, which was directly related to audience responsiveness. When audiences interacted positively with the performers on stage through their laughter, yelps, applause, whistles, and so on, it stimulated the performers to greater spontaneity and life on stage (Verderber et al., 2005; Borich, 2004)). The best audience after opening night was the audience for the seventh performance. This coincidentally was the same night that I had prepared an appreciation dinner for the cast. This audience engaged in all forms of

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feedback noted above plus they gave the cast a standing ovation. The next best audiences were during the school day matinee for junior high school students (the fifth performance) and the eleventh and final

Sunday matinee performance. All of these were especially good audiences and performances.

Audiences for the third and fourth as well as the ninth and tenth performances were solid, friendly, upbeat, and/or hearty. On the other hand, the worst audiences occurred during the Friday evening of the second performance, the Tuesday evening following the school day matinee, which was the sixth performance, and the Thursday evening of the eighth performance. These audiences respectively were unresponsive during the show, sluggish and sedate, and unenthused. The cast’s performance during the evening of the sixth performance appeared strained, most probably due to having a second performance in one day. For the other performances, actors/performers were consistent, but lacked the inner life that more responsive audiences stimulated, presumably because the lack of audience response acted like a negative reinforcement, causing a decline in their best efforts (Borich).

Humor was up for the photo shoot following the eighth performance, even though the audience this evening was unenthused. The humor used at the photo shoot took the form of risqué, flirtatious, sexual poses, giggling, and teasing. The photo shoot appeared to have a similar effect as dancing had on members of the cast. They became not only physically, but sexually charged and exhibitionistic. As noted by Gruner (1997), such sexual humor can have innocent overtones while channeling in acceptable ways what Robinson (1983) refers to as taboo drive states. Chapman (1996) and Provine (2000) also recognize the social facilitative functions of sexual humor that relieves aggressive and sexual impulses, and assists in healthy relations.

The most applause went to the female leads in the show. This pattern was consistent for the majority of audiences. Indeed, the top lead was a female, and there were more females than males in this show. Perhaps there was greater empathy for females. I am uncertain about the gender make-up of the audiences, or why this pattern occurred. Normally, males and females entered as couples, the males bowed, and then the females.

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The last performance involved an accidental fire alarm, which required the audience to leave the auditorium. Backstage humor subsided. People back stage responded differently. Some reportedly grew calming and helpful, some went about business as usual, others became frustrated and/or angry. A few tried to use humor to lighten the mood, but met with resistance. After the show, audience response was robust, and actors and crew jumped right into the strike.

Reflections on Directors

Artistic director

The artistic director’s conceptual base was that rehearsals are the primary vehicle for developing performers’ acting, singing, and dancing roles. He used humor in everything – blocking, notes, breaks, and choreography. Directing to Ted was not the same as teaching, though students learned their parts.

Ted preferred to conduct relaxed, informal, focused rehearsals centered on the actors that allowed humor to flow freely. Moreover, he noted that he chose to run rehearsals based on the nature of the show he was directing. In this case, the flowing, running pace of the show caused him to run through scenes and Acts without stopping to fix or polish them. Finally, Ted noted that he likes to draw on actors’ innate needs to do well in a show to empower them to be creative and to use his instructions and notes to help guide them. Again, humor played a major role for him in his directing style.

Second, Ted liked a quick pace, though he felt that he was slow in blocking and choreographing this production. Still he accomplished both tasks in eight rehearsals for a full-length show. In addition, there were three musical and two technical rehearsals, sixteen run-throughs of sorts, and eleven performances. So Shawn and I claimed that Ted staged this show expeditiously. Less dancing helped him stay ahead of schedule, he claimed.

Musical director

The musical director, Shawn, felt pressed for time to complete his work to his liking. He, therefore, remained frustrated, although he kept a positive attitude and upbeat sense of humor throughout.

He focused on the accuracy of rhythm, notes, and lyrics in his sessions in and out of rehearsals with

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actors. He also stressed enunciation, vocal projection, and correct breathing and placement of the voice.

According to Shawn, this show was musically difficult, and therefore demanded more time to work on accuracy with performers.

Shawn claimed that, unlike opera, he was unable to obtain a musical score in advance of rehearsals. This handicapped him from learning the music in advance, thus he had to rely heavily on rehearsals to learn and teach the show. Further, lack of time undermined everyone’s full confidence.

There was only so much he could do in any one working session. Ideally, Shawn would have liked two hours or half of a rehearsal session for the first week and a half rather than only three full rehearsals. This would have added six hours to his agenda, and would have been enough with half-hour warm-up sessions.

Shawn noted that students in this Department did not engage in homework outside of rehearsals, thus he spent additional time with them privately during the days. Homework time was competing with needs to juggle work, school, and personal responsibilities. However, Shawn was willing to work with cast members outside of rehearsals to everyone’s benefit.

Tensions Between Directors and Actors/Performers

Part of this tension between actors/performers and directors has to do with their different statuses.

Coser, as reported by Provine (2000), notes that there is a definite pecking order to humor usage. Humor is said to flow downward: for example, from directors to performers. Chapman (1983) supports this notion. In addition, actors/performers are required to operate within Turner’s (1982) “liminoid” world as creative, impulsive artists who explore and experiment with the world freely and unabashedly. On the other hand, although directors are facilitators of this kind of creativity, they also must maintain order during rehearsals, and thus create a clash due to their liminal focus. A liminal focus is one that adheres to conventional rules and regulations that govern civilized worlds. It is postulated that this too contributes to the stressors or tensions between and among actors and directors.

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The Infrastructure: Who Engages in Humor and How?

Results from the musical theatre production under investigation revealed that humor among all participants ranged from positive to negative, from verbal to physical types used by leaders versus actors/performers, from off stage to on stage humor, and from self- to other-disparaging humor. In this second section of Chapter 4, we will look at the overall characteristics of who used humor and how. Then we will look at various types of physical and verbal humor. Finally, we will consider the use of dangerous humor and musical underscoring.

Overall Characteristics of Who Used Humor and How

Various points regarding the overall characteristics of who used humor and how are of significance to us. First, the artistic director, Ted, held the opinion that the humor used by young actors often was typified by “adolescent humor.” Actually most actors were past their teens and into their early to mid twenties, so their humor is perhaps more appropriately labeled as a young adult form of humor.

The key point is that humor, like the physical, social, and psychological aspects of each person, ages and matures with the individual. Humor is a dynamic, ever changing phenomenon. As such, it is evolving as we too are. That humor grows as we grow is not a theatrical phenomenon, but one of human development (Santrock, 2003).

However, true to the artistic director’s observation that many of the actors/performers and stage managers participating in this study used what he called an adolescent form of humor, we note that most performers in this play used a broad, physical type of humor relying on bodily functions and farcical gestures and movement for maximum effect, such as kinesthetic humor, dance, dramatizations, and sexual phenomena. This can be referred to as a form of low comedy that takes little intellectual prowess. E.

Wilson et al. (2004) define low comedy as calling for little or no thought; rather it consists of silly, slapstick physicality and bodily humor that are crude and often violent. In contrast, more sophisticated forms of humor are said to constitute high comedy. High comedy, according to Wilson and Goldfarb, is intellectual and verbal, including thoughtful laughter about characters and ideas through witty banter and

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sophisticated dialogue. Thus, the more seasoned or mature participants, such as the directors and staff, engaged in forms of high comedy, such as verbal wit, sarcasm, puns, and analogies.

It is reasonable that the artistic director found the young actors/performers to use a form of humor he called “adolescent,” but which he meant to be interpreted as a youthful, non-intellectual, bawdy type of humor that is physical in nature. E. Wilson (2004) notes that farces and burlesques fall into the category of low, physical humor. A farce, he reports, involves broad physical actions and stereotypical characters.

Slapstick, pratfalls, and horseplay occur frequently as means of entertaining and provoking laughter through farces. He states, “Burlesque also relies on knockabout physical humor, as well as gross exaggerations and, occasionally, vulgarity” (p. 189). Both forms of comedy require energized and agile bodies that possess quick reflexes and a wide repertoire of movement possibilities. We equate these kinds of abilities with young, uninhibited individuals, such as adolescents and young adults.

Freud, according to Schultz (1996), laid out three stages in the development of joking. During childhood, a child learns to appreciate a joke for its incongruity without the need for resolution. At this stage of development, we deal with ambiguities well. As children grow, society pressures them into making logical sense out of what they say, do, and hear, thus children must learn to use joke techniques in their jesting. Joke techniques alter the structure of humor by helping provide clear meanings for jokes, thereby reducing ambiguity. Adult humor occurs when we begin to use jokes to express our aggressive and/or sexual motives. The change is one reflected in the content of our humor rather than in the structure use. Jokes vary in terms of the libidinous—aggressive and/or sexual —material that they possess, according to G. D. Wilson (1994). Still the joke techniques or formal structures of jokes provide us with the excuse to unleash taboo feelings, given they help us camouflage the content of our jokes. This helps us cope with our developmental fears and anxieties.

It would seem that the type of humor we use depends on our role(s) and given circumstances in certain contexts. That is, the more we mature in our roles on the job or in the theatre, the more sophisticated our breadth and depth of humor usage. This occurs because as our experiences widen and

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deepen, our exposure to different people and their humor increases, adding to our storehouse of models for varying types of humor. We are able to learn through personal experimentation. Typically, as we mature, we engage in less physical humor. Instead we utilize new and role appropriate types of humor, including various forms of high comedy. High comedy is sophisticated and verbal, including the simplest form of wit, a pun, as well as satire, sarcasm, and hyperbole, for example (E. Wilson, 2004). Verbal humor, therefore, is indicative not only of maturity, but of high status roles (V. Turner, 1982).

V. Turner (1982) points out that we prepare to act out roles according to how we think others expect us to act. Socio-cultural systems exert a great deal of pressure on members of the culture to follow the structural norms governing its social roles and statuses. Throughout the life span, we wear many different hats, play new roles, and heed the subcultures of the higher status positions to which we aspire.

This would appear to be true of humor usage as well.

Although the ability to live outside of socio-cultural constraints is rare, individuals have a naturally occurring urge to be free from them. The tension that Ted, the artistic director, said naturally exists between actors/performers and directors may be due to the struggles both face in trying to continually redefine themselves in both novel and normative ways. Normal behaviors follow structural norms, and are necessary to complete the business of school, work, and the theatre. But it may include behaviors that are played, according to V. Turner (1982), more like a game, like masked play, if you will.

The theatrical context, on the other hand, appears to allow for abnormal behaviors that push stuffy, narrowly focused rules to their limits. Rather than viewed as aberrant behaviors in conventional society, such behaviors may be viewed as creative or innovative within a theatre context. They are what

V. Turner (1982) refers to as the liminoid world, a world wherein people operate against prevailing socio- culture structures, and instead advocate for antistructure. Turner refers to the impulse or urge to be free of role governed behaviors communitas. Communitas allows members of the theatre community to develop and maintain a creative style of their own. In our case, communitas is represented through various uses of humor that demarcate the imaginative from the real, the flexible from the rigid, and ultra-lucid

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interactions between and among actors from norm-governed social ones. McGhee et al. (1983) would call this phenomenon the group’s idioculture, the localized culture of our musical theatre ensemble and staff. In this setting, humor reflected their shared system of knowledge, beliefs, values, attitudes, and behaviors about liberating themselves and creating art.

Results from this study demonstrated that the leaders, the artistic and musical directors, set the stage for humor usage. Indeed, as Coser reported in Provine (2000), humor flows downwardly from the top to the bottom of the status hierarchy. Individuals of the same status are said to direct their witticisms downwardly or among themselves, rarely reciprocating up the status hierarchy. It is true that humor emanated from the directors, but actors seemed to reciprocate humor up the status hierarchy more than common in non-theatrical contexts.

Fine (1983) indicates that making fun of superiors rarely occurs in public places, although high ranking individuals may humor or make fun of their subordinates in public without recourse. In fact, downwardly directed humor helps to build rapport, establish community, and identify group membership, thus it is healthy for superiors to use humor with subordinates. Fine continues to note that if disparaging humor is used when the person being made fun of is present, a veneer of diplomacy is used to soften the joking.

Self-deprecating humor used by the directors themselves, according to Wolf (2002), may have made the directors appear to be more congenial. According to G. D. Wilson (1994), this transpired because subordinates and superiors who use self-deprecating humor diminish the consequences of what happens to them in the eyes of others. Some self-deprecating humor tended to be effective at garnering sympathy from audiences (Wolf, 2002; Wilson). Although Pollio found this type of humor to be used most frequently by females, males and females used this type of humor, though not frequently, in the study at hand. Some males used humor to deride audiences, as anticipated.

Indeed, self-deprecating humor was used throughout the musical theatre production. The directors, in particular, used the most self-deprecating humor among participants. That is, they used

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humor to help them make fun of their own foibles, to show that they could take a joke, and to make them appear to be open and approachable leaders of the group (Wolf, 2002). In second position were various actors/performers who would make fun of themselves to soften a criticism, to cover a mistake, or to show awareness of a personal shortcoming. In all cases, self-deprecating humor served the function of humanizing individuals in others’ eyes.

Specifically, the directors led the group by using the most humor and the more verbal, intellectual forms of humor. Other actors/performers and stage managers followed with similar humorous input.

However, again, it was noted that the staff leaders (i.e., the stage managers) mirrored the directors’ verbal and intellectual forms of humor. By contrast, only some of the actors/performers engaged in verbal humor. These individuals included Richard, Hilda, and Ralph, the lead humorists. Other actors/performers, including these three, predominantly used physical and sexual rather than verbal forms of humor.

It is noteworthy to point out too that many of the individuals noted above are what we might call trait-like humorists. That is, we may conclude that they have a personality-like humor orientation across people and situations. Thus, they theoretically use humor frequently regardless of the context, as noted by Lefcourt (2001). They clearly demonstrated a trait-like humor orientation in this musical theatre context. These individuals (i.e., Ted and Shawn, and three actors/performers, Richard, Hilda, and Ralph) were expected to be funny. Thus, they were cast into social roles to lead humorous interchanges nightly and to keep them alive.

Furthermore, Richard and Hilda might be noted to be the group clowns. However, Richard was more outgoing and public with his humor than Hilda. Hilda saved her humor for more private situations, such as in the dressing room or stage wings. Chapman (1983) notes that research uncovers that group clowns normally are not a group’s leader. Mitchell would have liked to assume the group’s leadership role, having been in the Department longer than most and in numerous productions, but he was not as overtly humorous as many. Like Richard, clowns are typically males who enjoy popularity and affection.

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Richard fit this profile overall, although Hilda garnered more affection from others and probably more popularity. Some people found Richard to be overbearing, and disparaged his humorous style even though he was excited to be in his first lead role in this production. Remarks about Hilda were positive across the board.

Other actors/performers, such as Nathan, Lillian, and Bettie, also were humorous, but not to the degree that the former individuals were. Naturally, the rest of the cast and staff were humorous by times, but would not be considered trait-like humorists. They had more serious sides to them that, in essence, rendered them followers rather than leaders of humor. Also Nathan was funny to others, although he did not intend to be.

Chapman (1983) further notes that members of a group engage in humor usage more frequently the more cognitively similar they are. The greater their cognitive similarity, the greater their response of laughter as well. Certainly this group’s demographic profiles were similar enough to indicate similar cognitive predispositions. In addition, they had common ground as thespians and members, old and new, of this University Theatre Department. Chapman notes that different phases of the group’s life together are marked by different degrees of laughter. Thus, those actors/performers who knew each other well prior to this production, experienced greater freedom to laugh together. As the production process evolved, appropriate times to laugh ebbed and flowed and deepened relationally.

In addition, Pollio et al. (1996) note that men more frequently initiate laughter than women, and that women laugh and smile more frequently than they joke. Provine (2000) supports this finding, concluding that males primarily are the jokesters, and females primarily the consumers of humor and laughter. Hilda was an exception in this case because she generated jokes to a high degree. By times,

Lillian, Bettie, and Mattie also generated jokes. So there was not a blanket adherence to research findings regarding gender in this study.

Most humor in this production was positive. By time short quips were made that expressed discontent or disparaged others, but negative feelings were treated non-humorously generally. So

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negative humor was the exception rather than the rule. Gruner (1997) argues that all humorous exchanges set up a win-lose situation. Likewise, Wolf (2002) clarifies that the superiority theory of humor depicts it as a means of gaining superiority over others. So it can be argued that all humorous exchanges possess at their root frustrated, aggressive, and sexual urges.

However, humor still follows along a continuum from having fun to making fun of others.

According to Pollio (1983), even making fun of self and others may offer the kind of role distance needed to keep relationships in good standing. Being laughed at often, however, is viewed as disparagement humor. By contrast, it may be that some disparaging humor represents innocent win-lose or one-up, one- down scenarios, not the grisly ones we might imagine.

Indeed, Wolf (2002) notes that we tend to empathize with others who are the brunt of ridicule, given we generally view such content as unpleasant and unwelcome ourselves. Thus, we must negotiate against letting some humor go too far, as it is harmful to relationships. Nevertheless, humor with a tinge of superiority may serve a valuable corrective function, especially for insiders (Wolf, 2002). Insiders are noted to be able to make fun of each other in ways that others cannot. For example, teasing, although it can have a negative connotation, may be viewed positively as a means of bonding with insiders, building rapport in general, and increasing overall social attractiveness (Alberts et al., 1996).

Podilchak (1992) noted that fun-of humor is used to point up social inequalities. Cast and crew members used this as a way of exerting social status and power over one another, for example.

Performers and technicians represent powerful divisions in the theatre at large. According to La Fave’s

(1972) vicarious superiority theory, we typically make fun of others of inferior status. This would mark actors as the ones to make fun of technicians. However, in the theatre in general, technicians make the most fun of actors in their headset communication humor. True to La Fave’s (1972) theory, actors who were upperclassmen made fun of the underclassmen; and true to theatre, lower status technicians had the upper hand in humor usage toward performers. Additional information about how these two groups really differ in terms of statuses and roles would require additional investigation.

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We do note that as the production approached performances, the on stage work of the directors and performers grew more and more serious. Off stage contexts then became places where everyone was most comfortable engaging in humor. At this point, it became noticeable that those who were highly humor-oriented continued to engage in humor on stage, especially when Barnlund’s et al. (1960) maintenance functions were in effect. They also used a high level of humor off stage when their task or maintenance functions were high. However, those who engaged in humor predominantly for interpersonal and social reasons initially, but were not highly humor-oriented, engaged in less humor on or off stage when task functions were a priority. When maintenance functions were important, they participated in humorous exchanges due to group pressures to conform to roles that supported this function.

Physical Humor

Fine (1983) discusses humor in light of social roles or positions. Out of four different types of roles related to humor, the comedian describes accurately the propensity of actors in this production to employ physical humor. A comedian, Fine states, acts as a humorist who entertains an audience with verbal and/or nonverbal behaviors. In our case, actors are non-professional comedians performing for each other—directors, stage mangers, and fellow actors. Amateur or less successful comedians are noted to engage in burlesque comedy, depicting sexual deviants and sexual events. In this study, performers impersonated homosexuals, males acting like females, and females acting like males. They also engaged in impersonations or public displays of sexual acts, including bisexual and homosexual acts and orgies.

Pollio (1983) notes that comedians, regardless of their social situations, must be concerned with

Goffman’s (1959) impression management, given careful self-presentation is essential for getting audiences to laugh. Keen characterizations as well as comic techniques and timing were of great concern to many performers in this production, not only in terms of their stage roles but in terms of their play roles. Getting audiences to laugh requires adept meta-communication skills, the ability to communicate the intentions of our humor at sophisticated levels of epistemology (Bateson, 1976).

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Overall, as Pollio (1982) points out, the spirit of fun which comedians embrace enable them to immerse themselves in the present moment so that, whether their humor is benign or malignant, they are capable of releasing their innermost secrets and tensions, and commenting freely from their own perspective on the mores, taboos, and strengths and weaknesses of our social worlds. This requires a commitment to living on the margins of society in what V. Turner (1982) would call the liminoid world— a world wherein individuals rather than collectivities struggle to become free from the social constraints of everyday life through more creative and exploratory means than conventional society, the liminal world, permits. Because actors in this production can be said to have lived in a liminoid world, they were freer to present unique, unconventional, and creative worldviews. Thus, we witnessed actors in this production engaging in physical and sexual behaviors that would be taboo in many other social contexts in the United States, especially within other university departments.

Kinesthetic Learning

Many actors showed signs of a preference for learning by doing. Indeed, actors and performers must live in their bodies rather than their heads since their work revolves around use of their bodies, voices, and emotions in general. Acting, singing, and dancing require thought, especially initially when learning one’s part(s), but they require less thinking once they are grasped and well rehearsed. Actors may be visual and auditory learners, but, in the end, all learn kinesthetically according to Harrow’s psychomotor domain (Borich, 2004).

Controlled or conscious processing of information eventually leads to automatic processing

(Santrock, 1997). Controlled processing involves the capacity, resources, or effort to encode information into memory. Automatic processing occurs over time after we have learned information. Generally, the deeper we process information by elaborating on it in our own minds in terms of our personal experiences, examples, or other schemas, the more likely we are to remember it (Craik & Lockhart, 1972;

Craik & Tulving, 1975).

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Humor that is kinesthetic is physical. Actors/performers in this production employed mainly physical humor, which goes hand in hand with the active nature of their acting, singing, and dancing, and is reflective of youth in their late teens and twenties. Bowman et al. (1961) stress that acting and performing are essential parts of dramatic action. Barranger (2002) elaborates, adding that the root meaning of drama is to do, thus acting means engaging in action. This given show also required a lot of physicality and energy.

Additional Physical Activities

Other physical activities noted in this production had to do with activities unrelated to on-stage behaviors. They had to do with on and/or off stage mannerisms that accompanied and complimented everyone’s humor: for example, eye contact, facial expressions, gestures, and movements. Provine

(2000) notes that such nonverbal behaviors help facilitate laughter. He cites eye contact, in particular, as a key facilitator of laughter, since, as DeVito (2004) adds, the eyes are best at gaining others’ attention and interest.

Other amusing physical activities occurred on or off stage, and included the following: playfully engaging in singing and dancing during break times, using subtle humorous antics during note giving sessions, and employing large physical gestures during humorous encounters. Further, the artistic director experimented with side coaching during rehearsals, which involved physically mirroring actors on stage. These encounters became amusing sometimes.

Touching Behaviors

Touching behaviors among actors appeared to be more prevalent than among cohorts in other venues. This is because, as Ted noted, actors engaged in touching each other off stage in order to build intimacy and comfort in touching each other in their stage relationships. It was not a negative kind of touching, but nevertheless defied normative social conduct in our culture.

Instead, touching became part of what Fine (1983) calls the idioculture of the theatre. That is, touching behaviors were accepted and positively sanctioned by the localized culture of the theatre group

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who shared the same attitudes, values, and needs. Many of these actors had been exposed to theatre activities, exercises, and stage directions over the years involving touching behaviors with one another.

This has managed to reshape their attitudes about social norms of touching, and has allowed them to engage in touching in safe and special ways. Apte (1983) further notes that joking relationships may take on characteristics of their own, such as playful touching, teasing, sexual innuendos, ridicule, and mock insults. Indeed, nonkinship joking, as was the case in this production, was creative and spontaneous, involving more sexual joking and horseplay than may be engaged in for pure entertainment outside of this context.

Dramatizations

Although observed less than a handful of times, the vivid and heightened nature of dramatizations as a means of conveying a story was effective in establishing what Zillmann (1986) might refer to as dramatic emphasis and humorous entertainment. It was used to emphasize a point, to show anger or frustration at oneself, or to bring a character to life.

Choreography and Dance

Choreography and dancing were liberating physically to the actors/performers and artistic director. Everyone’s mood became more youthful, energized, and alive. Actors used their bodies no more fully than during these moments, whether they felt adept at dance or not. High spirits, giggling, laughing, having fun, being humorous, all of these things were present whenever the group engaged in dance. This involved teasing and amusing one another as well as being teased and amused, which, according to Podilchak (1992), both are forms of humor are important in social relationships.

Amusing Physical Accidents

Blake was the main focus of two amusing physical accidents. Per Morreall (1987), amusement involves enjoying a novel or incongruous situation merely for what it is without any inclination to judge or change the situation. Amusement is akin to having fun, according to Podilchak (1992). Having fun levels the playing field among people through reciprocal, conciliatory behaviors aimed at eliciting playful

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smiling and laughing. Blake was a trait-like humorous person to many, although most of his humor in this show was directed to his on stage work, perhaps because he had a minor role, and/or did not speak

English well.

One evening Blake fell off the up-stage ramp during a performance. While he was acting inebriated, staggering broadly along the platform, he apparently became oblivious to his surroundings, and fell off into the cross over space up stage. Overall this was an amusing event that at the same time was serious and concerning, so people refrained from laughing until Blake was noted to be unhurt.

Another night, Blake spewed water all over the stage while guzzling make-believe vodka from a flask behind his stage daughter’s back while giving her a big hug. Onlookers began to laugh heartily based on how amusing the physical act of quickly sneaking drinks from his bottle was, especially while no one was looking, at least not in his fictitious world on stage, and based on how dysfunctional his character’s behavior was.

Perhaps, as La Fave (1972) notes, people exercised perceptual selectivity by perceiving Blake’s fall as something they could positively laugh about since he did not physically hurt himself. It also may be viewed as a way of helping to reinforce group norms to avoid accidents. As G. D. Wilson (1994) reveals, such humor helps to bring those who have deviated from group norms back into the fold. This is a kind of in-group humor that involves some teasing. Teasing, according to Podilchak (1992), has a dual nature: it may have a denunciative connotation or a positive and playful one. Fine’s (1983) viewpoint is that humor can serve the function of encouraging acceptance of group norms, and also of discouraging deviance through ridicule.

Sexual Humor

Though not all play is humorous, humor is a form of play. Huizinga (1976) and others (Alland,

1976; Lorenz, 1976; Schechner, 2002) believe that play among humans helps us, at least in part, to escape from stressors and tensions in life, to satisfy an imitative instinct, to discharge vital energy, and to replenish expended energy. Provine (2000) notes in addition that humor removes social inhibitions.

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Sexual humor was one way in which several participants noted that the actors could both discharge and revitalize their energy sources. This group’s sexual humor included imitation of the opposite sexes and sexual characters. It also aided actors in being able to remove inhibitions in order to maximize their ability to explore and create.

As Ted noted, there is a lot of unmasking that takes place in the theatre more than many other contexts. It is part of an actor’s development to be truthful, believable. Given these young performers are at a stage at which they are preoccupied with sex, the use of sexual humor was part of their human development (Santrock, 1997). Sex is a fundamental drive, and the theatre, being open and accepting in general, permits it and perhaps even encourages exploration of it more than in other contexts. Dance and choreography were key contexts within which actors/performers could express their sexuality.

In addition, sexual humor was a way in which actors struggled to liberate themselves physically from the social constraints of conventional codes for conduct, what V. Turner (1982) would refer to as the antistructure of the liminoid world. This was evidenced in the actors’/performers’ improvised public displays of their perceptions of their own and others’ sexuality. Gruner (1997) notes that sexual humor is among the most entertaining forms of humor, though nice girls thinking dirty thoughts about powerful and aggressive sexual acts is disapproved of in our culture. But Gruner further claims that all sexual humor involves a win-lose relationship. Thus, some aggression or anger is involved, as originators of the humor delight in one of the sexes losing to the other, whether the sexual humor deals with extra-marital sex, homosexuality, prostitution, the young or the old, males or females.

The ensemble’s engagement in sexual abandon became part of their unique style – of their experience of the liminoid world, what V. Turner (1982) refers to as communitas. Again, Fine’s (1983) term, idioculture Turner (1982) used the concept of flow to describe the freedom actors/performers needed to be creative. Flow is characterized by mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical fluidity from one moment to the next without conscious intervention. It is a kind of altruistic and autotelic centeredness between and among people and the world (Schechner, 2002). Such behavior most likely

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would not be found in most other majors on campus, but it was discovered to be possible within the

Theatre Department. It was typified not by the dark sides of sexuality, such as sado-masochism, but by ludic versions of sexual novelties that reflected actors’ struggles in their own lives with extreme behaviors, such as homosexuality, transvestitism, and transsexuality.

Apte (1983) and Caron (2002) also note that aggressive or sexual behaviors become exaggerated, formulaic, or simplified versions of rituals, including rhythmical repetitions and other sexual forms of humor, including obscene singing and horseplay, touching and grabbing of sexual organs, and chasing one another. It also may involve imitation of the opposite sex’s clothing and behavior and burlesques. It was noted time and again that actors in this production used sexual behaviors in the ways noted above, particularly as a means of reflecting cultural connections to sexuality. Neelands (1991) discusses cultural connections as means by which youth experience the world, such as the worlds represented in the popular media of films, videos, television programming, plays, and musical enactments.

G. D. Wilson (1994) notes that Freud observed that jokes consist of libidinous material in general.

Libidinous content relates to repressed sexual and aggressive tendencies. According to Gruner (1997), sexual and aggressive urges may be released through innocent forms of humor. Freud describes innocent forms of humor as occurring through jests that are nothing more than attempts to show off, to display oneself, or to exhibit oneself sexually. The benefit of such behavior, Wilson continues, is that humor becomes a socially acceptable way of releasing taboo impulses, offsetting conflicts, reinstating equilibrium, and serving as a peacemaking strategy.

Robinson (1983) emphasized that humor is a means of coping with stress from external pressures.

Humor revolving around individuals’ dysfunctions and bodily functions allow them to vent personal and social frustrations, to channel taboo drive states, such as sexuality, in acceptable ways, and to better advocate equilibrium as a sign of good health.

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Background for sexual phenomena.

A key point here is that Ted, the artistic director, fueled a lot of the sexual humor employed in this production. It would be interesting to note if the group would have engaged in as much sexual humor as they did if the leader of the production would have been different. This exhibited itself in both his verbal humor and during the choreographic sessions. According to Chapman (1983) and Coser as reported in Provine (2000), Ted had the status and authority to affect the tone and patterns of behavior among participants since humor travels top down.

The ensemble and stage manager’s ages also affected the degree to which sexual humor was employed. Late teens and early to mid-twenty year olds are at a developmental stage where they are exploring their sexuality (Santrock, 1997). This simply lived itself out, given the encouragement to be open with it from the director, especially during choreographic sessions.

Huizinga’s (1976) indication that play, and by extension humor, help to discharge and revitalize people’s energies is supported in practice by the stage manager, Katherine. She claimed that sexual behavior was a way of running off excess energy. Its energizing effect prepared actors for stage work. If they were anxious, it helped the energy or tension to relax or subside. If they needed to increase their energy, it was a way of regaining a jolt of it.

Sexual humor also was simply a way of being funny or amusing. Amusement involves a pleasurable response to a novel or incongruous situation (Morreall, 1987), and being funny also involves pleasure in that someone reframes something in a way that tickles us and elicits laughter (Podilchak,

1992). Sexual humor further helped males and females adjust to their gender differences. They challenged each other’s masculinity and femininity by reversing their roles through imitations of the opposite sex, for example. They also made mock sexual advances toward each other that would be taboo in the world at large, but served to reduce interpersonal inhibitions, fear, and anxieties in this context.

They were able to press the boundaries of social sanctions, and aid each other in male-female communications.

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Finally, several females noted that sex was often a theme in the plays produced at this University.

This caused complaints from the community, but the Department stood behind experimental theatre events that included such content. Their goal in part was to broaden the experiences of patrons in general.

Trait-like sexual humor.

Just as some individuals had a trait-like orientation toward using humor (Lefcourt, 2001), others were predisposed to engage in sexual humor. Ted, Hilda, and Ralph fell into this category routinely. Ted used sexual innuendos frequently whereas Ralph was more physical with his sexuality. Ralph, a gay male, claimed that being sexual was very important to him (15IN23).

Richard, Lillian, and Bettie also were noted to engage in sexual forms of humor to a greater degree than others. Further, it is important to note that all of the individuals engaging in sexual humor frequently were high ranking in some way. The director, Ted, was in charge of the production. The actors were upper classmen. Thus, as Provine (2000) reveals, humor flowed down the status hierarchy and between and among individuals at the same status levels. Presumably those at the top and on a par with one another felt comfort being vulnerable in front of others. They also probably were more exhibitionistic personalities.

Choreography and dance.

Not only was dancing liberating physically, it was stimulating sexually. V. Turner’s (1982) concept of flow was applicable here. Flow is characterized by mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical fluidity from one moment to the next without conscious intervention. In addition, Huizinga (1976) claims that wish fulfillment, fiction, and entertainments are means of releasing and replenishing vital energy.

Thus, sexual humor encourages both the replenishing and discharge of physical and psychic energies, and encourages flow. It also can be exhibitionistic, which presents something of a paradox, since as Huizinga contends, play loves secrecy as well. In this regard, sexual humor is considered a form of play.

Second, actors smiled with their bodies, so to speak, through dance. They experienced what

Pollio (1983) and Lefcourt (2001) describe as buoyancy. Buoyancy generated positive expressions of

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sexuality ranging from seductive and inviting to comedic and farcical. Dance unleashed actors both psychologically and physically. They were unabashedly excited, energized, spontaneous, seductive, and creatively engaged. Everyone grew concerned with developing vocalizations to match their movements, such as ah-has, un-huhs, oh-ohs, and laughter. In addition, the artistically expressive kinds of movements associated with dance unleashed their sexual impulses so that actors naturally molded their bodies into seductive postures reminiscent of late pubescence and young adulthood.

For instance, all the energy generated by the choreographic rehearsals led to a procession of movements manifesting, for instance, beguiling glances, seductive smiles, and tumultuous tough gal looks in addition to actions involving tossing kisses, seductively sucking candies, grabbing genitalia, engaging in hip pops, hip thrusts, hip rolls, high kicks, and lifts. Males and females alike enacted the gamut of these behaviors – men imitating macho male models, women imitating voluptuous, star strutting vipers, to a small degree, men imitating women, and to a much lesser degree, women imitating men. Furthermore, as everyone heated up, they began shedding clothing, flashing stomachs, swaggering or staggering around the stage, fully opening and stretching their hands into jazz positions at varying levels, posing, posturing, and preparing for a sassy and sexy routine. There was a modicum of blushing, a fair amount of touching, an undeniable abundance of playfulness.

Relational intimacy.

Schechner (2002) notes that play (and humor) served the function of helping group members to learn their places in their social hierarchy. In this way, Schlenker (1980) adds that actors strived to maximize rewards and minimize costs. As such, he proposes that working to develop appropriate relationships with others led to interpersonal approval and friendships, or in this case, even aesthetic pleasure. Thus, actors developed appropriate relationships with fellow actors as a means of improving stage relationships and the quality of their production. John and Cynthia, for one, flirted off stage so that they could portray intimate and sexual behaviors together on stage. Likewise, Ralph fooled around with

Mattie off stage in less intimate, but sexual ways so he they could reenact such behaviors on stage.

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As Chapman (1983) further points out, humor and laughter are essential elements of healthy communication, enabling us to develop relationships with others in open, empathic, and assertive ways.

Robinson (1983) views humor as a sign of emotional maturity because it relieves anxieties and shields us against defensiveness and depression. It also allows us to float trial balloons while forming relationships in order to learn how free we can be with others without losing face or becoming hurt. Swartz (1995) further notes that risky information can be revealed via “affiliative humor,” or humor that consists of harmless wit and nonsense and that increases similarities between and among people. Affiliative humor builds on common ground, facilitates connectedness, reduces social distance, and promotes healthy relationships.

Sometimes sexual humor was used further as a means of deepening non-sexual relationships on stage. It helped Hilda in her role, Richard in his, and Bettie and Lillian in theirs. However, again, their sexual humor was not aimed at a sexual relationship on stage. Still such humor was found to help them in other intimate relationships on stage that were romantic or otherwise, but non-sexual in nature.

Sexual innuendos.

This category is of special interest because it combines verbal and physical forms of humor and subsumes many other types of humor. It was noted that probably more sexual innuendos were generated than witnessed. The artistic director, Ted, used this verbal form of sexual humor as well as Mitchell and

Richard. Others did too, but because they used such humor in Goffman’s (1959) “back regions,” it was difficult to catch all instances of such humor.

It was noted above that this is a verbal form of humor, sometimes containing double entendres, but it also can be a physical form of humor. Without repeating information here, it is worth pointing out that some of the sexual humor discussed to date was predominantly physical—choreography and dance, homosexual humor, and imitations of opposite sex individuals. Other forms, like this one, were blends of verbal and physical humor.

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Mocking sexuality.

To mock means to make fun of someone, something, or oneself in the form of a parody, ridicule, or self-deprecation. Several examples of mocking sexual humor involved kissing— kissing a cow, a first stage kiss between heterosexuals, or homosexual kissing. These examples indeed are readily recognizable as situations that our culture finds amusing. They also each are embarrassing situations with incongruous subject matter. Thus, it is natural for folks to mock such scenarios, as participants in this play did.

Examples of mocking sexuality, like other forms of sexual humor, were both verbal and physical.

When the costumer made fun of John’s way of conveying his need for boots with extra large calves, most of the jabbing was verbal. However, imitations of his actions were physical. All kissing examples noted above were physical in nature, but people followed through with verbal remarks. The mocking poses during the photography session for the cast were physical in nature. Again, some made verbal remarks that followed observation of their acts.

Nudity.

Both verbal and physical forms of humor were used that referred to nudity. The artistic director,

Ted, made various verbal references to nudity as part of his humorous banter. These verbal references were extensions of sexual humor. Actors/performers followed suit with similar comments over time.

Cynthia, for one, also dressed with the gay males in the males’ dressing room. In this scenario, the males and Cynthia dressed and undressed in front of each other.

Whereas verbal references to nudity were part of the sexual humor used throughout this production, the physical nudity between Cynthia and the males was noted to be rare. In fact, there is enough of a social stigma still associated with this behavior that the artistic director was not made aware of it. Most actors/performers did not care about it, but some did and disapproved, although they kept this a secret from the directors. Those who did care were reportedly some of the females who felt that

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Cynthia should be dressing with them. Her behavior was counter to school norms or codes of conduct, and they were offended by it.

These innuendos to nudity may point to the duality of secrecy and exhibitionism inherent in the paradox of play that Huizinga (1976) talks about. The very nature of theatre calls for donning masks and costumes that are seen as secretive human propensities. On the other hand, opening up such sights to spectator view to instruct and/or entertain involves exhibitionism.

Homosexual humor.

Though there was some usage of homosexual humor, there was not a great deal of it observed.

Most of the verbal humor of this kind was conducted in what Goffman (1959) would refer to as the back region. This consisted of the informal, behind-the-scenes interaction zones wherein participants engaged freely and openly. As such, it was difficult to detect. But communication did reveal at least a modest amount of humorous exchanges focusing on homosexuality between and among homosexual males,

Richard, Ralph, and Peter in particular, as well as heterosexuals, Hilda, Mattie, Bettie, and Shawn.

Again, as Huizinga (1976) notes, play loves secrecy. However, it paradoxically also loves exhibitionism. Interestingly, homosexual humor, a form of play, was displayed publicly on occasion, but expressed in physical rather than verbal terms. Goffman (1959) refers to these as front regions, the regions of behavior open for public view. It was apparent in certain suggestive physical postures during mainly choreographic and dance sessions that some actors were making statements about homosexuality, transvestitism, and transexuality. Other situations for this type of behavior included the technical rehearsal with cast members and the one-time photography session with the cast.

Below are some additional examples of several forms of homosexual humor. For one, due perhaps to Mattie’s dancing capabilities, small stature, and likeability, gay males enjoyed playing in physical ways with her, tossing her over their shoulders or joining her in a dance. Their physical interactions with Mattie were decidedly more physical and sexual than heterosexual males would engage in with her. Ralph, Richard, and Peter flaunted their homosexuality in playfully gay ways, shaking their

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derrieres or striking dramatic poses. Shawn and Bettie followed others’ remarks with quips about homosexuality, either verbal or musical. Whereas most forms of homosexual humor occurred in front regions, Hilda’s impersonations of a male penis generally were relegated to a back region.

It should be noted too that homosexual humor, involving both physical and sexual humor as well as relational intimacy, was conducted at an appropriate level for casual friends and acquaintances

(DeVito, 2004). Several gay males identified themselves, but no gay females. This does not mean that there were no other homosexual or bisexual males or females in the group, however. Indeed, the theatre’s norms for using sexual humor allowed for hetero- or homosexual humor to be explored in accepting and nonjudgmental ways.

According to DeVito (2004) and Griffin (2003), self-disclosure is the vehicle for achieving contact, involvement, and closeness. Homosexual humor was revealing, but did not involve highly personal and revealing information about people’s sexual preferences. This was because there was enough role distance to keep participants from revealing too much about their personal lives during rehearsals (Goffman, 1959; Hess et al., 1996). Role distance protected them, while allowing them the freedom to express their personal preferences and style.

Each gender imitating the other.

Hilda, a rather tall, attractive, blond female known for her trait-like humor, loved to entertain fellow students with a physical impersonation of a male in the midst of a sexual act alone or with someone else. Specifically, she liked to mime possessing a male penis. The group referred to this as “her package.” These repeated impersonations included homosexual as well as heterosexual acts between young and old, males or females. Though mainly mimed, they also included verbal double entendres, turning lines and lyrics from the play into sexual innuendos to accompany the impersonations. For example, the word “magic” was transformed from its normal denotative meaning into a metaphoric meaning of aphrodisiac.

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No other females did what Hilda did. Hilda’s impersonations were a solo act. However, some females did impersonate a male copulating with a female during the photography session, for example, when the group made tableaux of sexual acts. The latter acts were made in public, whereas Hilda’s performances were made privately in what Goffman (1959) calls “back regions.”

Interestingly, there primarily was only one frequently recurring impersonation of a female by male actors in the production. Males liked to imitate a female vixen, posing periodically while learning against a wall with both arms high and one knee bent. Mitchell invented this move. Then, unlike Hilda’s impersonation of a male, males, such as Richard, Blake, and even the artistic director, Ted, followed by jumping on the bandwagon with the same imitation. This inside joke generated a good deal of laughter from participants.

Per Huizinga (1976), the propensity to embody another gender was motivated by the same impulses that actors feel when they pretend to be characters other than themselves. Schechner (2002) explains this behavior by asserting that, through ritual, a second reality exists. This reality allows people to escape from their mundane lives in order to become someone or something other than they are. All theatre is imitative. For Caillois (1979), mimicry is one type of game, the goals of which are to gather information, self-develop, negotiate outcomes with others, and educate self and others about the game and social or contextual norms governing it.

Apt (1983) proposes that sexual humor including ritualized behavior involving men and women imitating the clothing and behavior of the opposite sex is found in various religious ceremonies in African cultures. Such sexual behaviors are parodies and exaggerated reenactments performed by ritual clowns.

Ritual clowns have a close resemblance to actors in the theatre because both may freely portray others, wear makeup and costumes, burlesque, and tease. Thus, females imitating males as well as males imitating females may be more like van Gennep’s (1960) rite of passage into young adulthood. They move from Mead’s (1934) generalized, rule-governed other to a free agent in the world.

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Verbal Humor

As Derks (1996) points out, creating nonsense and clowning are important aspects of all forms of humor. Humor is a mysterious thing that sometimes implies needing to “be there” in order to appreciate it. This is even truer when we are talking about verbal forms of humor. Again E. Wilson et al. (2004) define high comedy as witty banter and sophisticated dialogue that is usually serious and provokes thoughtful laughter as opposed to low comedy’s riotous laughter that requires little or no thought in response to physical humor.

As in the case of this theatre project, both immediate and past social and interpersonal contexts and interactions of the participants affected how well humor was understood and received. Each participant needed to be fully engaged in order to avoid missing the joke, particularly with verbal forms of humor, but even when they were engaged, if they lacked insights into the full, rich context of the humor, they ran the risk of misunderstanding it.

In addition, Provine (2000) remarks that those situations that favor talking also are the ones that favor humor as a facilitator of smiling and laughing. The give and take of talking and laughing for example, are learned social behaviors, according to Fine (1983). Learning how and when to perform these actions and to read them is as critical as learning to speak, listen, read, and write. For example,

Provine continues to point out that laughter occurs in the presence of others the vast majority of the time and appropriately follows questions and sentences; it rarely occurs when we are alone or within the middle of anything. Provine terms this the punctuation effect. More could be said about the organization of conversations involving humor and laughter, but such a discussion is beyond the scope of this study.

Further, everyday conversations are not based on jokes, but mundane, poorly crafted situation- comedy-like scripts, according to Provine (2000). They are about relationships rather than performances.

However, in this theatrical context, we might argue that conversations were punctuated with a heightened style of interaction akin to a performer-audience relationship. This presumably is due to the closeness of actual stage relationships to personal ones.

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Finally, verbal humor has been noted to aid learning to a significant degree, which means that it is unsurprising that Ted and Shawn, and the stage managers, were the most frequent users of such humor.

Ziv (1979) proposes that humor aids learning by gaining and holding students’ attention. Kelley et al.

(1988) support this theory, claiming that humor creates immediacy—the physical and psychological closeness that humor, eye contact, and close proximity generate (Richmond et al., 1998). Immediacy, by arousing and gaining attention, aids in the retention of information.

Ted and Shawn made good use of immediacy behaviors during their interactions with ensemble members, using both verbal and nonverbal message systems. This improved the students’ ability to hear and act on their notes. As Frymier (1994) notes, state motivation mediates between immediacy and learning. Gorham et al. (1990) found that immediacy behaviors are positively correlated with learning outcomes.

Puns

Puns are plays on words using two words that sound or are formed alike, but have different meanings. Both directors used puns abundantly. Of course, they were more verbal than other participants in the production. Various other actors/performers (e.g., Richard and Bettie) used puns in addition, as well as the stage manager, Peter.

However, Gruner (1997) points out that there is a love-hate relationship with puns. Puns overall are used to show off how clever and/or intelligent someone is. Although punning takes talent, and not everyone can make them, people can feel victimized or agonized by them. That is why people groan in response to a bad pun. A bad pun is one that is deemed to be unworthy although time and energy has been put into figuring it out. On the other hand, a good pun elicits a readily enjoyable and appreciated laugh. Gruner views puns as an art form, involving study and skill. The pun was a way for the directors to play a game of constructive one up/one down with the cast. The directors were able to maintain their status and authority and at the same time enjoy the benefits that humor can bring in terms of building

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relationships and even making an instructive point. Both good and bad puns with their respective reactions were observed.

Analogies, Similes, Metaphors

Analogies, similes, and metaphors are related in that each is a type of comparison, likening something to something else. An analogy is a straightforward comparison of two things: for example, a slow musical tempo compared to the time it takes to get in and out of a muddy parking lot. A simile is a figure of speech that uses the words like or as in a single sentence usually to make a comparison that is often figurative rather than literal: for example, playing a character as John Wayne in high heels would, or moving like people at Grand Central Station during rush hour. A metaphor is another figure of speech that uses a word or phrase related to one thing to stand for something else in a figurative way: for example, referring to a dance number as “an eighth grade half-time show.” Similes were used most frequently followed closely by metaphors. Thus, most comparisons were figurative. Literal analogies were presumably less amusing and used infrequently.

Theatre itself is a metaphor for life. Comparisons or analogies of varying kinds also aided learning by making information clear (Matlin, 2002). Comparisons helped to lead actors/performers from the known to the unknown by association. Thus, it was unsurprising to find so many comparisons used by the directors of this production. Ted and Shawn, again, the most verbal participants, demonstrated frequent use of similes and metaphors. Richard, a verbal as well as physical humorist, and Lillian, a bright and vivacious actress who also was verbal as well as physical, used comparative forms of humor in addition.

Stories

Talking serves many of the same functions as smiling and laughing, according to Provine (2000).

Like humorous talk and laughter, talking in general helps people to develop and maintain relationships.

Deborah Tannen (1990) helped social scientists to observe that small talk plays a critical role in social

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bonding. Small talk, like self-disclosure and storytelling, is important to relationship building in the theatre context.

Engaging in self-disclosure was a way in which actors/performers in this study entertained each other. They self-disclosed information about themselves at safe and appropriate role distances, which in turn aided them in getting to know each other, building a sense of camaraderie, allowing each other to smile and laugh, and letting others know how they liked to be treated (Goffman, 1959). Storytelling in this regard was beneficial to participants as well because it became a mechanism for sharing knowledge about each other that included self-disclosure, humor, and relationship enhancing elements.

Stories either involved longer, more serious narratives or shorter, amusing anecdotes. The experiences they revealed involved either those of others or of one’s self. Thus, storytelling again served mainly a relational function rather than a task function (Barnlund et al., 1960). Most stories related to the experiences within a theatre context; others to recent events in participants’ personal lives.

The person who most frequently engaged in verbal storytelling was the musical director, Shawn.

He talked about his family, his children, and his theatre experiences using anecdotes and humorous self- disclosure. Some more serious performers, such as Rue, Flo, Maria, and Constance, appeared to prefer

Shawn’s storytelling to Ted’s verbal gymnastics using other forms of verbal humor. Lefcourt (2001) points out that people have idiosyncratic preferences for varying types of humor. Gorham et al. (1990) note that females have been found prefer personal stories to humor, but both genders prefer humor from male teachers.

Also one has to guard against using too much humor, since he/she may run the risk of disclosing too much, becoming a joker, and/or losing credibility. Down et al. (1988) found that award-winning teachers used a substantial amount of humor, but not enough to fall prey to the aforementioned pitfalls.

Gorham et al. (1990) support this conclusion. Indeed, Ted’s humor appeared to be too conspicuous, shape edged, and frequent for some participants. Shawn’s humor, on the other hand, was more cordial,

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less frequent, and often presented in more intimate settings. Thus, it appeared to be more palatable for serious students and perhaps females.

When I went to a restaurant one evening with the directors and several actors/performers, I found

Lillian, Bettie, and Cynthia to reveal a good deal about the Theatre Department and trends within it through the use of storytelling. Sitting together over food and drink appeared to stimulate this kind of communication as well as uninterrupted time, the newness and nature of my role, and expectations in the theatre to share stories.

Next, stage managers, Katherine and Peter, told some stories as well as the Box Office Manager.

Thus, it is clear to see that the role one finds oneself in, particularly directorial or staff positions, contributed seemingly to sharing stories.

Onomatopoeia, Humorous or Jocular Expressions, and Exaggerations

There were various forms of verbal humor used by various participants, but, again, both the artistic and musical directors used them most prolifically. The most frequent uses of miscellaneous categories of humor included onomatopoeia, humorous or jocular expressions, and exaggeration.

Onomatopoeia is a figure of speech that creates and uses a word that mimics the sound it is associated with, such as “buzz” or “crash.” Humorous remarks are amusing, whimsical, or deliberately comical. On the other hand, jocular remarks are playful and happy, again designed to amuse. Finally, exaggeration is a hyperbole, another figure of speech that exaggerates for effect, but in a figurative rather than literal way.

Both directors used onomatopoeia as a punch line or in a subsidiary way. In addition, I observed

Richard using it as well. This is not so much a form of humor as a figure of speech. But the figurative use of it did have an amusing effect on others, especially when well timed.

Humorous and/or jocular remarks overlapped, and were used plentifully. In general, a variety of participants used playful use of sounds, euphemisms, nicknames for others, and even articles of clothing to humor and amuse. Ted used these types of remarks most abundantly. A couple of other more serious

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people were noted to engage in this type of humor as well, including Maria and Rue. These represented what Gruner (1997) would refer to as innocent forms of humor designed to show off and amuse.

Again, Ted used exaggeration or hyperbole more than others. Still Lillian, Richard, and Peter added humorous input using this technique as well. One might have expected this category of humor to be used more plentifully, but only a modest amount was observed. Again, this is a figure of speech, like onomatopoeia, that has the potential to be humorous as well.

Mimicry and Understatement

Less frequently employed forms of humor in a miscellaneous category were mimicry and understatement. Imitation implied modeling something whereas mimicry implied closely imitating something in order to ridicule or joke about it. Various examples of this form of humor were included under other categories. Thus, we begin to see how different forms of humor overlap - doubling or even tripling up. However, in addition to humorous forms of mimicry, the director further warned actors against imitating their roles from others’ depictions of their roles in videos, films, or even live productions of the show being produced.

A very minor form of verbal humor used is known as understatement. This consists of a statement that states the truth in a way that is weak or restrained, so much so that it becomes ironic, and therefore, laughable. The artistic director, Ted, was the only one noted to use this figure of speech, and also verbal form of humor.

Wit, Sarcasm, and Disparaging Humor

Wit refers to sharp, often sarcastic or satirical comments that point up incongruities or shortcomings, but are designed to be clever and amusing. Sarcasm implies making cutting, taunting, or caustic remarks, generally ironical. Satire attempts to ridicule people and situations by pointing up the vices or follies inherent in them. Disparaging humor is a broad-based term used to refer to any form of humor that makes fun of or denounces others for various reasons, including their inferior status, membership in an out-group, an infraction, or personal disliking.

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Wit, sarcasm, and disparaging humor each have a common thread. They represent what might be referred to as negative forms of humor. Leading theories of humor pinpoint the function of humor as helping people release aggressive and sexual impulses in socially acceptable ways (G. D. Wilson, 1994;

Podilchak, 1992). Others note that it is designed to establish superiority over others, which sets up a win- lose situation (Gruner, 1997; Wolf, 2002). At the same time the implication is that humor helps humans cope with negative needs or desires.

O’Connell (1996) refers to a distinction Freud made between wit and humor, which is useful to us. The artistic director, Ted, used wit most frequently. For Freud, wit was a verbal phenomenon geared to help people like Ted indirectly release repressed urges. Humor, on the other hand, which Ted used also, was geared toward uplifting others or making light of life’s stressors. Both wit and humor, according to Freud, act as a loving and playful superego nurturing a damaged ego in order to transform a person’s feeling of self-doubt and low self-esteem. In this way, O’Connell asserts that humor serves the positive function of stimulating joy, closeness, trust, and esteem despite the claims of other theorists that humor serves superior, disparaging, and controlling functions.

Another angle from which to capture the essence of Ted’s humor is according to Fine’s (1983) conflict humor. Fine states that wit, satire, sarcasm, irony, burlesque, caricature, and parody are examples of humor serving the function of social conflict. This is an indirect form of aggression designed to offset some undesirable elements. In this case, the undesirable elements would include remedial aspects of one’s acting, singing, and/or dancing, or perhaps behaviors surrounding a production. Ted’s humor then exercised social control over the group because it encouraged acceptance of group norms and discouraged deviance through conflict humor.

Fine (1983) continues to discuss humor and social roles or positions by pointing out that the wit or joker is intellectually keen, and quick to make witty, sarcastic remarks. Like Ted, he or she is generally a high status person who possesses a distinct personality type characterized by animation and dominance. As a sarcastic wit, Ted had greater influence over the group’s direction than a clowning wit.

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Because he was able to place ideas on the table for others to respond to, he was better at solving problems than most others. He further was able to ease the stress of group competition and conflicts, and enable people to build group cohesion.

Indeed, Ted’s wit, including sarcasm and satire, often was used during note-giving sessions. This form of humor aroused tensions, and then quickly released them. This juxtaposition of tension and release allowed fears and anxieties to be eased (G. D. Wilson, 1994).

Thus, the goal of Ted’s wit and teasing was to serve a constructive and corrective function (Wolf,

2002). Joking about someone’s infraction generates embarrassment and shame, but compels the target person to correct his/her behavior and conform for the good of the group.

The musical director, Shawn, also used wit and sarcasm, but to a much lesser degree than Ted.

Both normally used benign forms of sarcasm and satire in their wit. Although wit follows along a continuum from innocent, if not positive, to negative, an innocent type prevailed.

Further, the artistic director noted that actors/performers could be facetious, meaning derogatory or in bad taste. Jocose suggests a mildly mischievous quality in joking or jesting, sometimes to the point of being facetious. I was unable to record specific examples of this kind of humor among cast members, but I did in essence observe this kind of behavior to be operative in, again, what Goffman (1959) referred to as the back regions. Lillian and Bettie made fun of Nathan without his understanding of what they were doing. Richard reported others using disparaging humor towards him, and Andrew noted that stage managers and crew disparaged cast members via their headset communication systems. Cynthia got on

Blake’s case to read and speak in English to learn the language, and Rue ran around pretending to use a surrogate cattle prod to discipline freshmen.

Disparaging humor involves putting others down, discrediting them, and lowering their self- esteem. Some call it victimization or denunciative humor (Pollio, 1983; Podilchak, 1992). This type of humor can be applied to others or to oneself. More often than not, most disparaging humor was directed at oneself. Both the artistic and musical directors used this form of humor as a strategy to make them less

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threatening and more approachable and likeable. Further, they used it to soften criticisms, and perhaps to a lesser degree, to mediate conflicts and competition. Again, this type of humor might be combined with hyperbole, a comparison, wit, sarcasm, and another form of humor. In fact, those examples noted in the proceeding paragraph double as disparaging as well as the former forms of humor.

Interestingly, Lillian, Cynthia, Mattie, Nathan, and Richard also would hit, kick, shake, and toss the surrogate baby doll used in the show after exiting the stage following tender scenes with the baby.

These surprising physical acts of attacking the baby doll were aggressive and victimizing (8FO38). Only in this case, the victim was an inanimate object, thus the doll served to release tensions and aggressions safely without harming others.

Dangerous Humor

Dangerous humor is mischievous to the point of running the risk of causing injury to self, others, or property. Repercussions may range from mild to quite costly, including costs to one’s money, credibility, the quality of one’s work, or even death. Again, in keeping with the tone of the humor used in this production, the dangerous forms of humor used were more innocent when considered on a continuum from low to high risk. There were no known pranks, but there were dances in dangerous places, headset humor during cue calling and over emergency lines, and a menacing attitude required by an actor’s role that made him feel dangerous.

Geertz (1973), like Turner, discusses the dark side of play by building on the concept of deep play, a term coined by English philosopher Jeremy Bentham. Deep play is an irrational, high risk, potentially costly, all absorbing phenomenon. It refers to one’s ability to tease fate to the degree that the activity someone is engaging in, such as mountain climbing or gambling, may be physically and/or emotionally dangerous. In such cases, the risks of playing outweigh the potential rewards. Such activities are fun, though in some way threatening, thus people may seek safe players, safe spaces, and safe times when engaging in such play.

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According to Schechner (2002), dark play, on the other hand, refers to a truly subversive act that someone performs hoping to get away with murder. Dark play involves breaking rules, subverting order, disrupting routines, and gaining immediate gratification often through deceptive and destructive means.

This concept is appropriately referred to by Sutton-Smith (1997) as masks of play, activities that attempt to hide the actors and their agendas.

Dangerous humor used by members of this production is best labeled deep play. For example, there were two kinds of dances performed nightly backstage during performances. One was performed prior to the start of the show by Bettie and various crew behind one of the set pieces visible to the audience. The other was performed at the end of each Act by the costumer and her assistant in the stage right down stage wing area.

Both ritualized dances were performed in dangerous areas where there were curtains, cables and wires, rigging lines, entrances and exits, and many people trafficking through this area. Many things could have gone wrong. In both cases, neither director would have approved of such actions had they known about them. In fact, some actors had problems with these actions, because none of them were positively sanctioned.

Also humorous banter over the headset communication systems was dangerous, given it prohibited the staff from calling lighting, sound, and set change cues for the show and having the line open for emergencies. Again, these behaviors are prohibited according to the formal codes of conduct in theatre, but they also are widespread behaviors. The degree to which stage managers and crew used headset humor was uncertain. It reportedly was a good bit.

Finally, one actor, Ralph, noted that the character he played in this production forced him to be menacing or dangerous to others. This spilled over into his off stage behavior, making his dare others to do dangerous things now and again, although what those things were was unclear.

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Musical Underscoring

Musical underscoring refers to sounds or music added to humorous dialogue or actions by the piano or synthesizer in order to accentuate comic effects. This is reminiscent of vaudeville and silent films in the United States (E. Wilson et al., 2004). The sole proprietor of this kind of humor was the musical director, Shawn. Examples of musical underscoring ranged from excerpts of songs, single notes, or sound effects. This was an uplifting and amusing form of humor. In addition, this was a unique form of humor, requiring musical instruments, especially a synthesizer. Whether this is used in other musical theatre contexts was unclear.

The Infrastructure: Humorous Versus Serious

In this third section of Chapter 4, we focus on what has been noted already to be a negative correlation between stress and humor. As noted in the first section of the infrastructure of this play, seriousness occurred whenever stressors and anxieties were in a substantially high range. Martin et al.

(1983) and Robinson (1983) report that humor normally subsides until a crisis has passed and/or stress and anxiety levels have return to at least a moderate level. Until then, humor desists. Such cases occurred at specific points in the production process. Seriousness increased with stress, such as when working on stage—for example when the directors were engaging in blocking, choreography, and conducting, or when performers were singing, acting, and dancing on stage. In addition, seriousness increased when technical elements were introduced, when technical and dress rehearsals as well as opening night ensued, and whenever life events, personal differences, or conflicts, competition, and/or criticisms were overwhelming. In sum, the structure or phase of the rehearsal process as well as life events affected the level of seriousness experienced by participants in this production.

Theatre As Both Serious and Humorous, Hard Work and Fun

Finding humor in most every event and ultimately having fun were definite goals in this theatre event. At the root of this drive to incorporate humor in the production process is play, though Huizinga

(1976) asserts that play can be seen as subordinate, even inferior to seriousness. This same prejudice

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exists about humor, according to Chapman et al. (1996), and is often referred to as the tenderness taboo.

Still Huizinga admits that play melds into drama and ritual as an essential means of developing our mental and physical faculties through complete freedom to explore and discover. These same outcomes are triggered and fulfilled through the use of humor, since not all play involves humor, but most humor involves some kind of play.

Anticipating and experiencing humor and play was found to help relieve some of the tedium associated with laborious work and long hours. Importantly, it occurred primarily off stage during leisure time rather than on stage unless called for by the script, at which point humor turned into comedy. Rather humor largely increased before and after rehearsals and during informal and formal break periods.

Humor also increased the likelihood of being playful and having fun in both verbal and physical ways.

However, seriousness and hard work were required to produce the musical theatre comedy investigated. In other words, both hard work and fun combined to fulfill the task and maintenance functions of this production (Barnlund et al., 1960). Task functions relate to work, and maintenance functions to interpersonal relations. The balance between work and fun was said by participants to be a widely held practice in the theatre to help accomplish production activities, and the artistic director for this production made no exception. Both types of atmospheres were generated in order to reach production goals without undue stress.

Shawn, the musical director, noted that some students engaged in more fun than he would have liked. Sometimes some let too much humor interfere with the work required to polish the production.

This often was owing to immaturity and lack of discipline, according to Shawn. Moreover, it caused loss of ground in terms of progress on stage work. It also made it difficult for some actors to work with those who did not want to take the work seriously.

Some of the students noted that, given this was not a professional theatre, thus students were unpaid, it made it difficult to enforce disciplined work habits characteristic of an ideal actor/performer.

This was bothersome to the more serious minded students and/or those who claimed to be perfectionists.

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Not having well grounded and disciplined co-actors to work with was frustrating because their humor could be distracting. However, for the most part, this was not a problem in that most actors were content with their fellow performers.

Again, part of the clash between and among actors was due to individual differences in humor orientations and working styles. As Lefcourt (2001) and Provine (2000) point out, people have differing and idiosyncratic preferences for humor; what is within one person’s latitude of acceptance is in another person’s latitude of rejection. Our individual preferences as well as what we perceive about the senders, receivers, and the object of humor all affect our responses.

In the end, actors appeared to have managed to pull their weight to a respectable degree in their performance(s). As Ted noted, they needed time to have fun in order to break the tensions. He found that playing and having fun were valid activities, thus he encouraged such behaviors. But he balanced this by also encouraging a view of theatre as a serious business demanding hard work. Thus, the key concept in this section is balance or harmony between work and play, and this required flexibility in terms of when to use each and to what extent.

The notion of balance is captured in the set of social psychological theories known as consistency or balance theories. The fundamental premise of these theories, according to Littlejohn (2002), is that people are comfortable with consistency and harmony and are uncomfortable with inconsistency and disharmony. When disequilibria or inconsistency occurs, we are motivated to seek homeostasis so as to achieve self-maintenance and balance.

Moreover, Graham (1995) explains that, as noted by Berger (1987) and Berger et al. (1975), individuals are motivated to reduce uncertainties in order to restore balance and to sustain an expectation for positive outcomes. Those with a high sense of humor are generally viewed as being capable of reducing significantly more uncertainty and social distance in conversational settings, at least during initial interactions. This allows people to learn more about each other, leading to greater comfort.

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Flexibility to know when to be serious and when to use some amount of humor was required. As

Richmond et al. (1998) inform us, the three major goals of communication are assertiveness, responsiveness, and the versatility to adapt to people and situations, as called for by varying rules or norms, roles, and relationships. Again, the amount of humor used depended on how intense stressors and anxieties were. As Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson (1983) have pointed out, the greater the stress, the less humor used. If the stress was low or moderate, the more humor was used. Humor was one way to maintain a positive perspective.

Lefcourt (2001) notes that perspective-taking humor helps to distance oneself from personal identities in tough or serious situations enough to ease tensions and to appreciate a more positive outlook.

Thus, as Martin, Kuiper et al. (1993) further point out, people have an option to positively or negatively appraise another person or situation. The degree of stress one experiences, in other words, is largely related to how one appraises events. So, if people can be flexible and swing with the changing tides of events, they have the opportunity to maintain a positive or at least a neutral outlook that can enable them to also experience balance.

Ted, the artistic director, further noted that humor helped to break inherent tensions that exist between directors and actors/performers. Such tensions may exist, according to Ted, due to the serious business of on stage work as compared to the necessity for humorous off stage interactions as a means of offsetting theatre’s long hours and hard work. Moreover, Ted’s testimony points out that this give and take between humor and seriousness, fun and hard work is widespread among both directors and actors/performers throughout the theatre.

Seriousness was generated by various factors. For one, Blake claimed that it was triggered by uncertainty and ambiguity about one’s future in the profession. Bayles et al. (1993) and Robin et al.

(1995) note that one of the distinguishing elements of theatre is that it includes a career path less frequently taken by people. This is because it takes longer to cultivate and sustain a working status, if one ever is established. Moreover, these authors note that performance fears and/or anxieties sometimes

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haunt actors due to the highly public nature of theatre, the contemporary attitude that artists should produce flawless art, the still present Platonic notion of art as “a gift from the gods,” and actors’ needs for acceptance and approval from a public that holds high expectations for talent and art.

Lillian and Constance further noted that some of the seriousness of theatre stems from the need to provide honest criticisms of one’s performances. Humor helped to soften criticisms and lighten the hard working and serious mood generated by such feedback. Wolf (2002) labels this kind of feedback as corrective, since it involves a congenial and humorous way of presenting criticisms. Normally, negative feedback would embarrass or anger people, but within the context of humor, the target person became compelled to correct his/her error, to maintain group cohesion, and to affirm his or her good standing within the group.

Mattie noted that if an actor/performer wants a professional status in the field, seriousness is needed. According to Mattie, when those acting together differ in their intentions to work professionally, frustrations arise. Some do not care to work professionally, thus they are less invested in their stage work. Others do care to work professionally, and they become perfectionists about their work. The former students are free to engage in greater amounts of humor and fun than the latter students.

With this backdrop, we note that play and humor still have the potential to taint the theatre with moral suspicion. The recent-day view of theatre as a business, however, has helped to offset old prejudices. During the Puritan era, play was viewed as the Devil’s handiwork. Turner (1982) concludes that these prejudices have been offset in the contemporary world by treating acting, performing, writing, and composing, for example, as part of the entertainment business. According to Postman (1985), the entertainment industry is now the cornerstone of our United States culture; Hollywood and Las Vegas are metaphors of our time.

Serious On Stage Roles As The Product of Humorous Off Stage Relationships

Many actors used humor in their off stage relationships in an effort to develop the kind of on stage relationships required by the script for this production. What kind of and how much humor might

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be required per relationship varied, depending on individual personalities and tendencies to be serious or humorous. Additional factors affecting the kind and extent of humor used with others included how similar individuals were personally, their stage roles, and their history together on and off stage.

According to DeVito (2004), relationships develop in stages; they are established as a result of several factors, including time, trust, perceived similarity, involvement, and self-disclosure. Some actors knew each other prior to this production, and got along well enough to cultivate rapport quickly for on stage relationships. Others were meeting for the first time, thus their role work on stage required more off stage time.

Flo and Stella represented two actresses meeting for the first time who had to act out a close on stage relationship. Fortunately, they hit it off personally and professionally due to many similarities in their life values and work ethics. They both claimed that their role work on stage profited from the positive dynamics of their social relationship.

But this was only one case of the perfect chemistry. Most relationships took time and effort to build. Indeed, however, actors were observed to be open minded, approachable, nonjudgmental people.

In addition, the nature of their work calls on them to build relationships with numerous others on an ongoing basis. Thus, without over generalizing, actors in this production probably were better prepared to engage in relationship development with a wide range of types of people than the average non-theatre person. Good relationships foster flexibility or versatility in communication (Richmond et al., 1998).

Several additional points are in order. For example, Mattie noted that having fun off stage helped performers to express serious, intimate, or negative emotions towards one another on stage. Many times, an actor may be called on to yell at, become romantic with, cry to, or physically fight another character on stage. Given social taboos against such aggressive or intimate behaviors, humor became an important catalyst toward establishing appropriate relationships with cohorts on stage.

Bettie added that getting to a place where others were unthreatened by us, regardless of the emotional tone we needed to establish with them in our on stage roles, demanded trust. Thus, actors

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became locked into behaviors that were trust worthy, which reduced game playing and negativity. The high need to trust others may be an explanation for the tendency of people in this production to use positive rather than negative forms of humor. DeVito (2004) talks about trustworthiness as an affinity- seeking strategy for getting other people to know us, like us, and feel positive toward us. Trustworthiness refers to perceived honesty and reliability. Many other factors play into this perception, such as facilitation of enjoyment, perceived similarity and attractiveness, nonverbal immediacy, and self- disclosure. This applied to the humor actors used toward each other as insiders.

Cynthia noted that trust could take time, perhaps a year, but remains critical in acting. Nathan confirmed that trust was built through being oneself and respecting others. He also added that one’s comic timing and acting techniques could be improved via humor. For him, humor served as a kind of personal trainer.

Humor and play as well as seriousness and hard work became part of what Fine (1983) would refer to as the theatre’s idioculture. An idioculture is a sub-culture that develops a set of norms for defining the behaviors of its individuals. Joking relationships were an expectation within this musical theatre production. As such, participants in this study developed relationships that were characterized by playfulness, teasing, witty bantering, horseplay, and sexual innuendos and actions. Even serious minded participants were forced to become part of a humor-oriented idioculture that exploited humor for its benefits. Participants also were required to demonstrate a serious work ethic via greater concentration and discipline when necessary. Seriousness was called on when actors perceived complexities, when there was a strong task orientation, and when performance standards were high.

Individual Influences On and Preferences For Seriousness Versus Humor

Individuals varied in terms of their orientations toward humor. Various individuals were noted to be funny by nature. That is, they possessed what we might call trait-like humorous orientations towards others and changing situations (Lefcourt, 2001). But in general people differed in terms of their ability to maintain a humorous orientation. Some were funny most all of the time, such as Ted, Shawn, Richard,

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and Hilda. Others were funny only some of the time, such as Lillian, Bettie, Nathan, and Blake. Some people participated on the spot in humorous dialogues, like those noted above. Others needed time to warm into such situations, like Nathan.

R. H. Turner (1980) found that high self-monitoring students were more likely to make humorous remarks, more adept at creating humor on demand, and more likely to be rated funny by their peers. This is supported by additional research by Bell et al. (1986) and Lefcourt (2001). Thus, high self-monitoring of one’s expressive behaviors is a strong predictor of humor usage. Hilda, Richard, Ted, and Shawn would fall into this category.

Apte (1983) reports that joking relationships are informal and spontaneous as opposed to kinship joking relationships, which appear to be more formal and ritualized. He cites Radcliffe-Brown (1940) as defining a joking relationship as one ‘between two persons in which one is by custom permitted, and in some instances required, to tease or make fun of the other, who in turn is required to not take offense’ (p.

186). In this production, actors/performers acted like comedians interested in impression managing their responses in order to get audiences to laugh at them (Fine, 1983; Goffman, 1959). The comedians were actors/performers using each other as audience members. Since they were amateurs, they used a lot of burlesque comedy, depicting sexual deviants and sex events, as the literature suggests. They also exploited humor as a means of immersing themselves creatively into their role work, as noted by Pollio

(1983).

Naturally, the longer everyone knew each other, the more comfortable they were using humor around each other (Chapman, 1983). This applied to the ongoing phases of the production process, such that as the group got to know each other, the freer they were to laugh together. It also applied to those who already had established relationships coming into this production. They were the most able to tease and laugh with each other freely.

Also again, humor is said to flow downward, from the top to the bottom, according to Coser, as reported in Provine (2000). Ted and Shawn were at the top of the status hierarchy, setting the stage for

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humor usage among participants. In this production, Ted was noted to inspire the use humor, given he himself used humor most all of the time. Ted’s humorous contributions lightened the mood, and made the hard work of rehearsals seem less intense. They also helped the group to pay attention to instructions and notes and to heed their criticisms without becoming defensive. Shawn used humor for similar reasons, especially to build rapport.

Ted and Shawn also made fun of themselves as a means of strengthening interpersonal relations as well. Their self-deprecating humor was moderate to mild, and performed in good cheer. Again, as

Wolf (2002) points out, the specific goal in using this type of self-deprecating humor included making themselves appear less threatening. Like G. D. Wilson (1994) indicates, Ted’s use of humor as a defense mechanism involved directly making fun of things participants feared, and in so doing, diminishing their fears and anxieties.

Junior members of a group did not reciprocate humor up the status hierarchy. Rather they directed their own witticisms toward their subordinates and/or themselves, as Provine (2000) would note.

In addition, whereas males initiated humor more than females, as the literature would suggest, many females were more than merely consumers of humor or laughers in the current theatre context.

Moreover, actors with higher status, such as upperclassmen, were able to tease underclassmen, but underclassmen were unable to tease upperclassmen (Wolf, 2002). Definite pecking orders were operative in terms of who initiated humor and who was a target of humor.

Chapman (1983) further cites cognitive and emotional predispositions, skills and talents, and overall attributes as factors contributing to a person’s source of humor, the type of humor they use, and how they respond to humor. Thus, we recall Shawn indicating that students possessing a middle range level of talent tended to lose their humor more quickly in conflict situations, such as casting feedback.

Again, Lefcourt (2001) points out that people have differing preferences for various types of humor. Such idiosyncratic preferences indicate benefits to humor when it falls within a person’s latitude of acceptance. However, it can irritate and exacerbate negative feelings when it is not so funny to

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someone. Provine (2000) continues that what makes something funny to someone depends on the sender and receiver’s preferences as well as how funny we tend to view the stimulus object, such as a pet acting in a humanlike way.

As Nezlek et al. (2001) found, those who possessed a greater sense of humor were more likely to use humor as a coping mechanism against tensions and anxieties. They also spent more time with others, enjoyed their social lives more, found relationships with others more enjoyable, and felt more confident in social interactions. The converse was true for those who used humor less frequently. Thus, Ted, Shawn,

Richard, Hilda, Lillian, Bettie, Nathan, Ralph, and Blake, for example, were more adaptive to stress because they employed a great deal of humor in their lives. On the other hand, Rue, Mitchell, Cynthia,

Flo, and some others, who used less humor, experienced reportedly more stress during this production.

As much as the directors tried to open people up to using humor, some actors were serious by nature, and thus engaged in little humor. This, again, was influenced by the level of one’s predisposition to self-monitor their actions, the nature of their relationships with others, and various other personal factors (R. H. Turner, 1980; Chapman, 1983).

Rue was on such actor who was serious by nature. She preferred a serious approach to her work, although she found humor to be a valuable tool in getting to know her fellow actors early on. As rehearsals continued, Rue by and large focused on her methods or techniques of performance and acting.

Because she experienced greater levels of performance anxiety than most others, she preferred added structure and a serious tone to her routine. This seriousness carried over into her relationships with actors who performed with her on stage.

Shawn worried that, as a perfectionist, Rue tried to work too methodically and intensely. He feared that this robbed her performances of spontaneity and believability. She did not improvise well.

On the other hand, Ted admired her seriousness of purpose and drive to be very good. Still he too felt that her self-doubt made her her own worst enemy.

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Like Rue, Flo shared a tendency to be a perfectionist. She also experienced performance anxiety, particularly in terms of singing, which caused her self-doubt and self-criticism. Because of her heightened anxieties, she preferred added structure in mapping out her roles. Careful planning involved attention to details, such as notes and timing.

Luke and Blake both reported becoming distracted and/or annoyed by too much humor at certain times. However, unlike Rue and Flo, these gentlemen characterized themselves as possessing a low amount of performance anxiety. They also engaged in humor frequently, knowing how to be flexible with joking and/or getting down to work. Luke noted that he was a quiet person, preferring to watch and listen, and as such, sometimes allowed humorous people to get on his nerves. Mattie too was sensitive to people who did not want to be humorous or experience other humorous people all the time.

V. Turner (1982) would refer to leisure time as “betwixt-and-between” time, “a neither-this-nor- that” domain representative of the liminoid world. Again, for Turner, the liminoid world is similar to

Mead’s “I”—the creative, impulsive, unpredictable part of a performer and innovator that is struggling to be free from the constraints of a conventional social world. It encompasses play, humor, and divergent ways of thinking and behaving, and as such, is essential for actors.

Mead (1934) contrasts his I with another part of each person referred to as the “me.” The me encompasses what Mead calls the generalized other that reflects the attitudes and actions we have absorbed from others. As such, it is a rule-bound, conservative, and predictable part of each person because it represents the part of us that follows the prescribed norms of social conduct. This is akin to

Turner’s liminal world. The me is serious, and follows convergent, rule-governed behaviors. Actors struggled with both selves—the I and the me.

Actors/performers were overall open individuals, as noted by Ruch and Hehl (1998). They were tolerant of rambunctious action, nonsense, uncertainty, sensation seeking, and fantasizing. They also were characterized, per Ruch’s et al. theory, by non-conventional and non-conformists’ values, high

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intelligence, and youthfulness. In other words, they preferred to live in V. Turner’s (1982) liminoid world, and to draw on Mead’s (1934) I rather than the me.

Some people, however, showed closed traits, though no one was strictly a closed personality.

Closed traits would include stronger adherence to V. Turner’s (1982) liminal world and Mead’s (1934) me. As Ruch and Hehl (1998) point out, closed personalities tend to be conservative, avoid uncertainty, possess a high need for order, and generally act inhibited. Constance fell into this category as well as Rue and Cynthia, for example. Flo and Maria showed characteristics of this type of personality as well.

Caron (2002) made a clear distinction between play associated with learning and cognition and play associated with aesthetic pleasure. The former type of play may be postulated to have occurred when actors used humor to help them learn and retain their parts in relation to stage relationships, notes, lines and lyrics, instructions and choreography. The latter form of play was apparent in this production, particularly during dancing sequences and at other play-filled moments or during leisure time.

The Interior Spaces: What Contributed to Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties?

In this fourth section of Chapter 4, we depart from a discussion of the infrastructure of the current study, and instead take up discussion of the study’s interior spaces. Specifically, we will look at what contributed to participants’ stress, tensions, and/or anxieties within the musical theatre context under investigation. In the final section of Chapter 4, we will focus on what role humor played in helping participants cope with their stressors, tensions, and/or anxieties.

The organization of this fourth section of Chapter 4 follows as noted. First, we will discuss actors’/performers’ experiences of stress, tensions, and/or anxieties, including their self-reported anxieties and life stressors, and others’ perceptions of these. Second, we will talk about various individual differences in needs for approval, perceptions of mistakes, uncertainties and ambiguities, and unmasking, vulnerability, and masking behaviors. Third, we will discuss seven different production elements, and, fourth, we will talk about various criticisms, competition, and conflicts that contributed to performers’ tensions and/or anxieties.

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The Experience of Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

Actors’/Performers’ Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

In the current study, participants were asked directly what caused them anxieties and stress. They pointed out various situational factors, including certain kinds of people. According to Richmond et al.

(1998), situational anxieties are viewed as transitory forms of apprehension toward situational constraints generated by other people or a group. The social constraints that participants feared generated anxiety about communicating with others in certain situation(s) in this production. As DeVito (1986) adds, most people experience situational anxieties in certain situations (p. 17).

Again, as Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson (1983) demonstrate, when anxieties were high, actors/performers and others staff engaged in less humor. The converse was true as well: as stressors and/or anxieties decreased, humor usage increased. When humor was absent or used modestly, a wide range of factors were uncovered that contributed to such a decline.

For the most part, the situational factors contributing to stress, tensions, and/or anxieties in this musical theatre context were negative. As would be expected, this led to varying levels of self-doubt and worry. Whether we use the term performance anxiety (Robin et al., 1995), communication apprehension or CA (McCroskey, Fall 1977), or social anxiety (Leary, 1983), self-doubt and worry result from some degree of anxiety that is reflected in either real or anticipated fear of interactions with others in preparation for and/or in the midst of certain situations. These emotions led to stress.

According to Phillips (1977), fear is a situation-specific response to an anticipated or real danger; according to Buss (1984), it may occur in social or nonsocial contexts, such as deep waters. Fear can trigger anxiety, a more free-floating and intense response akin to a phobia. The memory of a phobic response may increase fear of an anxious response occurring again, especially when confronted with similar situational factors, such as singing. So fears incite negative stress, which Seyle (1978) refers to as distress, and leads to action or inaction.

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In some instances, increased stress and tension became a catalyst to performance improvements in acting, singing, and dancing among actors/performers. Perhaps this is a counter-intuitive response to stress. However, as the Yerkes-Dodson theory (Leary, 1995) illustrates, every task that we encounter requires an appropriate level of stress to complete it; that is, some stress is necessary for accomplishment.

But when actors’ stressors exceeded optimal levels for peak performance, the result was mental and physical exhaustion (Seyle, 1978).

Below are four categories of situational anxieties and stress that participants in this study reported. The first category of issues contributing to everyone’s stress centered on the structural and process-oriented elements of the production: for example, auditions, initial rehearsals, rehearsals in general, opening night, and first entrances for performances. These elements formed the substance of the first section of this Chapter. The individuals listed below noted these categories as specified: auditions

(John, Flo, Mattie, Hilda, Richard); initial rehearsals (John); rehearsals in general (Hilda); opening night

(Mattie, Lillian, Rue, Cynthia); and initial entrances during performances (Flo). In sum, these individuals’ experienced negative anxieties and stress, or what Seyle (1978) calls “distress.”

The only exception here was that Lillian noted that she would describe her anxiety as keyed up and excited rather than negative and noxious. Thus, sometimes people interpreted stress as pleasurable rather than noxious. Seyle (1978) refers to this condition as eustress, a positive response to the physical symptoms and cognitive experiences of stress.

The second category of factors contributing to actors’/performers’ stress, tension, and/or anxiety had to do with their roles and performances of their roles. Again, various situational anxieties are discussed here (Richmond et al., 1998). Various performers expressed concern about their singing and dancing as well as the size of their stage roles, and their expectations to fulfill these roles. For example, the following individuals described themselves as being particularly anxious about their singing: Flo,

Mattie, Hilda, Bettie, Richard, and Cynthia. Hilda also was worried about her dancing. Having been cast into lead roles for the first time worried others as well, such as Nathan, Richard, and Maria. Mattie,

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Richard, and Ralph noted that they had a high investment in and expectation to fulfill their roles successfully. All three wanted the roles they received very badly, and thus they were anxious and motivated to do well (Schlenker et al., 1982).

Various actors/performers noted thirdly that technical elements of the production caused them anxieties. Nathan, Richard, and Cynthia mentioned the orchestra and Richard and Cynthia noted technical elements in general. This was a meager number of respondents compared to the large extent of these elements in the production and problems with most of them. When actors were asked to pinpoint the roots of their anxieties, they responded with other situational factors; but when asked what hindered their role development in general, many more responded with specific technical aspects of the show.

Again, actors/performers noted different audience-based factors contributing to their stress and anxieties. Richmond et al. (1998) note that audience-based anxiety occurs in response to a person’s perceptions of and reactions to communicating with certain individuals or groups. This is a relatively enduring orientation that may be generated by situational constraints. For instance, Stella noted that, once the crew joined the production process, she was concerned about conflicts between actors/performers and them. Her opinion was that lack of communication was at the root of these problems. Bettie also revealed that dealing divas was difficult for her, but Bettie was speaking about actors/performers rather than the crew.

Additionally, Stella noted that at highly stressful times, she became more aware of others, and thus worried more about their opinions. Rue and Mitchell indicated that they both become very concerned about approval from others, including in particular directors and teachers and audience members. Leary et al. (1990) note that the need for approval is correlated with the fear of negative evaluation. The fear of failure, rejection, and shame augmented cast members’ desire for social approval and their motive to impression manage as well, demonstrated in showing off and broadcasting successes.

Fourth, various other individuals, often authority figures, were the source of many individuals’ anxieties. Richmond et al. (1998) indicate that audience-based anxiety should take into consideration the

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length of one’s acquaintance with others. That is, in early stages of relationship development, personality orientations may be predictors of fear and anxiety; in later stages, situational constraints most likely predict anxiety responses (DeVito, 2004; Verderber et al., 2005). Although Luke had known the artistic director, Ted, for some years, he reported being intimidated by him sometimes. This was due to Ted’s authority and the difficulty he had reading Ted’s behavior. He also noted that sometimes he feared that he could not trust others, and this caused him some trepidation. Ralph stated that teachers, directors, and colleagues made him nervous. Mitchell further generalized that he was anxious about confronting audiences after he had to do so following a fire drill towards the end of Act I during the closing performance. Being oneself was more anxiety provoking than being an impersonator or actor.

Other miscellaneous situational items, as noted by Richmond et al. (1998), served as means of augmenting stress and anxieties among actors. For example, John showed up at auditions in dance attire when everyone else was dressed in street cloths. As a newcomer to the Theatre Department, he was embarrassed by and anxious about the conspicuousness of his inappropriate dress. Nathan, Mitchell, and

Gertrude reported that ad libbing during rehearsals and/or performances led to anxieties. Gertrude, in particular, experienced above average levels of anxiety after an incident wherein Mitchell yelled at her for ad libbing on stage. Lillian also was nervous about unexpected events occurring on stage, such as something not being there or someone doing or saying something unrehearsed. Nathan was nervous not only about his first lead role in this Department, but his newness within it due to having transferred from another program. Finally, Stella, Lillian, and Gertrude were anxious about lack of preparation and potential mistakes on stage.

Actors’/Performers’ Life Stressors

A variety of life stressors affected actors/performers during this production. Seyle (1978) developed his concept of the “general adaptation syndrome” (GAS) in response to the growing problem of stress in the United States. GAS consists of three physical stages related to stress: alarm, resistance, and exhaustion. If participants were able to manage their stress, their bodies returned to normal. If not,

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individuals entered the exhaustive stage. Exhaustion showed up in the form of fatigue, illnesses, and/or emotional strain. So as Holmes et al. (1984) note, environmental stress was in concert with Selye’s biological stress to overwhelm people at times, leading to greater susceptibility to fatigue, a run down immunity system, and diseases.

Various instigators of stress are described below according to what actors reported to me during their interviews. Specifically, they were asked what, if any, life stressors they faced during the production. Responses fell into five categories: the events surrounding September 11, 2001, people, health concerns, lack of time, and certain situations.

First, the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 on the United States were among the most stressful for all participants, including the directors and staff members. Seven out of fifteen performers noted this as their number one life stressor. Some actors had relatives and/or friends living in New York

City and the surrounding areas at the time, which heightened their concerns about the safety and well being of these people. Others were simply stressed by having to attend rehearsal, and being unable to watch President George W. Bush’s televised comments on the event that evening. Their emotions ran from frustrated to upset and angry. During our interviews, simply recalling their personal experience of this infamous day was stressful for them, arousing negative emotions and worry.

In addition, many performers noted that people in their lives were a source of stress: boyfriends, family members, other actors/performers, new directors, and a roommate. People mainly were in competition for participants’ time due to the long hours each week spent in attending classes, doing homework, and/or attending rehearsals and performances. General competition between and among fellow performers also was cited as stressful. One actress was concerned about an ex-boyfriend who she believed was stalking her. Another was concerned about getting along with an ex-boyfriend who also was in this production.

Health issues were the cause of some stress as well. Various actors came down with a cold or flu, which contributed to running them down physically. Being sick and fatigued in the face of such hectic

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schedules added to anxieties about keeping up with everything. One actress was upset and stressed about her sister’s hospitalized during performances.

Lack of time due not only to certain people’s health issues but generally hectic schedules also was a source of tension. Constance was in her first term in college and worried about keeping up with her classes. Various others complained about school, work, and the production decreasing their available time to get everything done, thus adding to their stress or anxieties.

Finally, various stressful situations arose during this production. Owing to the events of

September 11, one actor lost a job. One actor was concerned about some emotional issues he had been experiencing. Another actor’s parents’ home was burglarized. Yet another actor’s father was a fireman, hence, when the fire alarm in the auditorium of the main stage theatre went off during the last performance, she became tense and concerned about the extent to which a potential fire would develop, thus worried about everyone exiting the building safely.

Others’ Perceptions of Actors’/Performers’ Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties

In this section, we focus on the directors’ and stage managers’ responses to the question of what their perceptions were of actors’ experiences of stress and/or anxieties. Again, these involved mainly situational factors contributing to stress and anxieties (Richmond et al., 1998). This question was unanswered by Andrew. There was a good deal of overlap in individual opinions, lending validity to our conclusions. In addition to cast members who experienced high levels of performance anxiety, each indicated other events that they observed to be stressful for actors. Every staff participant mentioned

September 11.

Peter added that those who appeared to possess high levels of stress and/or anxieties included

John and other freshmen, such as Gertrude, and those who had their first lead roles in this show, such as

Lillian, Richard, and Nathan. Rue was noted to have a particularly high level of performance anxiety in each production, though she was a senior, experienced, and gifted.

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Katherine noted that some actors were stressed about casting, but they all had worked through their disappointments and accepted their roles in the end. She claimed that others experienced stress due to hectic schedules, lack of rest and resulting acne, classes and tests, and being in their first lead roles.

These folks included Nathan, Richard, and Mattie, a perfectionist. Like Peter, Katherine also highlighted

Rue as a consummate actress who suffered from performance anxieties, and Hilda who also suffered from performance anxiety, but controlled it by using a high degree of humor everywhere she went.

Some performers, such as Rue, Flo, and Hilda, might be referred to as trait-like anxious people.

Richmond et al. (1998) claim that trait-like anxiety is a personality type orientation that is relatively enduring over time and a wide range of contexts. It is the opposite of state anxiety, but affected by situational factors.

Shawn claimed first off that he was nervous about his interview with me. In addition, he claimed that stress and/or anxieties among many actors might be owing to their egos and competition with one another. For him, the orchestra and its various shortcomings were anxiety provoking. Finally, Shawn likewise pointed out that Rue was a highly anxious performer.

The artistic director, Ted, admitted that the events of September 11 coupled with the difficulty of this show added to his personal stress during the production. He further noted various technical elements and upstaging as causing stress. He then talked about actors’ self-doubt, and pointed out that Rue,

Nathan, Cynthia, Lillian, and Richard experienced this as well as worry, stress, and anxiety about their roles. His choice of antidotes for such stress and anxiety was positive feedback and compliments from both peers and directors for all performers.

Individual Differences

Needs for Approval, Acceptance, and/or Liking

General needs for approval, acceptance, and/or liking among actors and staff were widespread.

Performers were vulnerable to the criticisms and competition in their stage roles. Being in the public eye increased needs and expectations among directors, peers, and audiences. They needed to appear

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attractive, confident, skilled, and talented. Again, these findings adhere to Leary’s et al. (1990) finding that needs for approval, acceptance, and/or liking correlate with the fear of negative evaluations, including embarrassment or shame, from others.

On top of this, many were freshmen and/or in their first lead roles, and feared negative consequences. Some were stars in their former communities, but had given up that status in this context.

Newness fostered uncertainties, which led to a fear of the unknown. Complexity, lack of attention from directors and/or others, and ambiguity about different facets of their new situation also contributed to fears and anxieties. These unknown factors not only heightened needs for approval and liking, but led to a lot of self-downing. Such poor feelings about oneself also fostered a lot of self-doubt among performers, according to the artistic director. These feelings are common among actors in the theatre at large due to its public nature.

In their model of impression motivation, Leary et al. (1990) explain why actors may have fallen prey to negative emotions about themselves. As the authors point out, self-esteem and self-identity are dispositional factors requiring our attention. Self-downing was a sign of low self-esteem or feelings about oneself. This affected one’s perceptions of real, implied, or imagined feedback from others.

Typically, actors gravitated toward those who offered them positive and constructive feedback, and would avoid those who criticized and deflated them (Schlenker, 1980; Richmond et al., 1998).

In addition, their self-identities not only were derived from society, but from their ability to fulfill the identity characteristics of their stage roles. This meant that they wanted to be approved of both as people and as actors. As Schlenker et al. (1982) point out, because they also typically placed a high value on reaching their goals, which involved succeeding in their stage roles, they were more motivated to value and need approval and avoid disapproval than many people. When and if something inhibited these needs, anxieties increased.

A good example of this theory in operation follows. Rue admitted that she was particularly concerned about faculty members’ opinions of her. She was highly motivated to secure their liking,

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support, and compliments. Cynthia also noted that she had a strong need for positive assessments from authority figures in the Department. In fact, she noted that she very much liked all faculty members in the

Department, and often enjoyed socializing with them.

In addition, the directors, Ted and Shawn, must have possessed high needs for approval, acceptance, and liking because they exhibited strong tendencies to avoid negative criticisms. They used their verbal wit and likeability quotients to foster respect and liking. They also gave particular attention to performers new to the Department. According to Bettie, Ted avoided giving honest criticisms to some actors, given his insecurities about offending them and not being liked. To her this sacrificed quality, as noted by Leary et al. (1990).

Perceptions of Mistakes and/or Personal Shortcomings

Humor appeared to be the key prescription for coping with mistakes and personal shortcoming in this theatre context. Humor was used as a safety net to offset stress and/or anxieties associated with mistakes and shortcomings, helping participants gain perspective, to break the ice, and to fix what they could. Those performers who emphasized their use of humor in this regard included Lillian, Bettie,

Gertrude, and Hilda. Peter also mentioned the need to help actors/performers through these episodes in positive and supportive ways.

This put a new spin on Martin’s et al. (1983) and Robinson’s (1983) research, which proposed that humor increased as stress decreased and vise versa. We noted that mistakes and shortcomings served other situational variables that increased stress. However, instead of decreased humor, increased humor was the normative response to mistakes. This response deviated from the inverse relationship between stress and humor noted above.

The only disparaging humor regarding mistakes and shortcomings came from the crew. The crew used disparagement humor to release some of their aggressions and frustrations toward actors/performers.

According to Podilchak (1992), such fun-of or denunciative humor points up the social inequalities between or among individuals or groups relative to their socio-political power positions. After the

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disparaging jokes are made, no one attempts to take them back. Performers reaped most of the attention; the crew felt a lack of attention and support. But by making fun of the shortcomings of the favored members of the group they were able to balance their own negative emotions and tensions. Interestingly, though usually a form of humor directed at others of inferior status, actors/performers were peers and of a higher status.

Uncertainty or Ambiguity and Fear of the Unknown

Various uncertainties, ambiguities, and/or fears of the unknown contributed to increased levels of stress and/or anxieties among participants. First, according to Bayles et al. (1993), artists need tolerance for uncertainty, given the need for certainty undermines the potential for art to be risky, subversive, and complicated. However, in this production, it was evident that actors preferred structure and direction, thus there was a moderate intolerance for uncertainty.

As Epictetus stated centuries ago, “People are disturbed not by things, but by the views they take of them” (Ellis, 1995, p. 53). Actors’ realities were built upon their perceptions, and for them, there was an insufficient amount of feedback provided by the show’s directors, which led to uncertainty and frustration. According to Graham (1995), Berger (1987) and Berger et al. (1975) developed uncertainty reduction theory (URT), which proposes that anxieties and frustrations mount in the face of uncertainties, thus individuals become motivated to reduce them to return to homeostasis. Such negative emotions get in the way of learning. Those who experience them have a roadblock to learning (Mager, 1984;

McCroskey, January 1977). In addition, actors/performers experienced what Van Sell et al. (1981) would refer to as role conflict and role ambiguity. What is important to note is that, in the examples provided below, the directors may have given feedback, as desired, but the actors failed to perceive it.

First, actors felt a lack of feedback concerning their characterizations and/or the controlling concept of the production. They felt that the production contained both two- and three-dimensional or superficial and complex characters. Their confusion about which to emphasize resulted because Ted failed to clarify what he wanted. The result was an incoherent and unaesthetic grab-bag effect, they

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believed. One complained that Ted would emphasize knowing lines and instructions, but would not provide actors with truthful feedback about the quality of the show or their performances because he was afraid of rejection from others.

Due to their perceptions, performers turned to people outside of the production for help, experimented on their own, and/or collected information as best as they could to help with their characterizations. They desired more feedback for unity and coherence. Their seriousness about this issue was so high that humor plummeted when this subject arose.

On the other hand, as Shawn asserted, Ted did provide the actors with his vision. He revealed that the production was to be a fairy tale and not a cartoon, and that it was to progress from nonrealistic to realistic. This meant that the characters were to become three-dimensional as the show progressed.

However, these conceptions were not repeated enough for the actors to recall and readily recognize them as part of the director’s conceptions. Truly neither Ted nor Shawn engaged in intellectualizing about the production, so the actors did not deeply process this information (Craik et al., 1972; Craik et al., 1975).

Ted felt that it was important for actors to experiment nightly with creative possibilities for their characters, but he recognized that the performers’ use of techniques varied. Some liked to write out what they wanted to do. Others only had to think about it. Older, more experienced actors generally did better than younger, less educated, and experienced actors. Overall, Ted felt that the actors did as well as could be expected progressing from a positive to a more menacing tone as the show progressed. Some problems were due to faulty writing in Act II, Ted claimed.

Though not his job, Shawn claimed that he tried to help performers by answering their questions about their characters. He noted that they had learned a lot, but needed reminded of techniques in order to remember to use them. As works in progress, they needed guidance.

Several possible explanations for why students responded as they did follow. For one, their psychological stage of development could have caused them to remain confused despite feedback.

Students’ life stages may have caused them to continue to place an emphasis on conformity to peers; in

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addition, experimentation with role identities and role confusion may have continued as well as transitions from believing that behavior is externally controlled to internally generated (Santrock, 1997).

The stages of human development among cast members then may explain why they wanted more help from their directors regarding visions of this production as well as characterizations and emotional development. Not having had a wealth of theatre experiences also may have contributed to a lack of readiness to work independently.

Closely connected to the concept of conformity is groupthink. “Groupthink” is a term coined by

Irving Janis to describe inferior decision-making that occurs as a result of a high value group members place on group unity or harmony (Griffin, 2003). Thus, rather than register doubts or concerns about conclusions, or offer up new ideas, group members agree to agree in order to maintain group balance.

This practice clearly can have negative, even dangerous, consequences. In this case, it could be that enough people voiced concern about a lack of feedback from the directors that most all began to view this as a problem area. They, thereby, also did not have to work hard to find their own direction with their roles.

Adolescents and young adults may be less accustomed to self-directed or even collaborative models of learning, depending on their prior educational experiences (Borich, 2004). Though Ted, in particular, desired for actors to work in self-directed ways or with others, he probably could have added to what Borich would advocate are the essential ingredients to making either kind of instruction meaningful and workable. For example, Ted could have engaged in more careful planning for student success by providing more information about when and how to use strategies for learning their roles. He also could have engaged students in a series of activities to help them, or he could have served more fully as a mediator of learning.

As Richmond et al. (1998) note, there is a misconception that telling is communicating. We would only have to tell others once what and how to do something, if this was true. Rather telling is only part of the story. The authors write: “You must be able to adapt the message to the receiver and respond

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to the receiver’s feedback. . . . Although the meanings that receivers may assign to our messages may not be the meanings we intended to convey, we certainly have less reason to expect to achieve shared meaning by simply telling.” (p. 17)

Thus, even though Ted, Shawn, and I recognized that actors were given at least some of this information, they claimed that they did not receive it. Thus, for a majority to have misperceived directions, the directors would have had to engage them with their ideas more fully.

Further, though the directors presented notes regarding comic techniques and timing, performers’ perceptions again were that they failed to receive enough of this kind of feedback. Ted did not show them physically how to read or present their lines; his notes were given orally. However, he did give them notes and a lot of freedom to make their lines funny in their own ways using body language and vocal inflections. Nonetheless, the actors/performers experienced difficulty in translating notes into actions.

Moreover, performers would have liked greater feedback regarding audience laughter. Again, the more responsive audiences catapulted the quality of actors/performers’ performances to a high level. This principle is covered also within the discussion of subsequent performances. In addition, females received more robust audience responses during bows than their male counterparts. Overall, it was evident that positive feedback contributed positively to everyone’s energy, motivation, focus, performance, and use of humor.

Also ad libbing was a second key concern that led to uncertainties and ambiguities for some.

When performers ad lib on stage, their fellow performers have no idea what to expect. This leads to anxieties about not being able to respond well in front of the public. Mitchell chastised Gertrude for doing so. Both Mitchell and Lillian preached against such actions.

On the other hand, Nathan believed that ad libbing or improvisation on stage helped to unleash spontaneous and creative ideas, and as such was a productive means of exploring and expanding a role.

Ted, the artistic director, agreed that ad libbing could be beneficial, but only if other actors/performers were okay with it. If they were not, Ted believed that fellow actors should refrain from using it on stage.

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Participants mentioned various other sources of the unknown. According to Ted, the inevitability of mistakes required actors to practice ways of handling them. Stella talked about lack of preparation.

Blake groaned about uncertain futures in the entertainment business, and Richard talked about his sense of humor being misunderstood. Bettie again referred to the events and outcomes of September 11, and

Stella was concerned about her sister’s hospitalization.

Unmasking, Vulnerability, and Masking

First, unmasking was noted by Ted to be essential to the stage work of the theatre. This might be viewed as akin to Hochschild’s (1983) concept of “deep acting.” Deep acting involves directly tapping into real feelings or using a trained imagination to tap into them. This is akin to Stanislavski’s method acting (1936). Emotional recall and substitution are two techniques used to conjure up real emotions needed in acting and/or performing.

As reported by participants in this study, theatre requires a level of believability in role that occurs by virtue of openness to oneself and others. The actor is the instrument, and as such must become malleable and pure in heart and soul. Sometimes, he added, such honesty leads to blunt criticisms among peers. This kind and level of truth can be hurtful, but is part of the territory of learning their crafts.

Criticisms can be threatening, and, therefore, became a source of stress and tension associated with unmasking.

Second, vulnerability and perfectionist tendencies were tempered with a lot of humor, according to many participants. Humor was the way they helped themselves remain positive. Their humor set the stage for a positive and productive working climate within which to break the ice and level the playing field for working together, as noted by Lefcourt (Snyder, 2001).

It was important for actors to know that others were not going to violate them or harm them in any way if they opened themselves up to them. Opening up our innermost emotions to others leaves us vulnerable. We are more easily hurt when we are vulnerable. So it was important that actors felt little potential for others to violate, betray, or harm them in any way. Harmful behaviors might range from

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laughing at others or talking behind their backs to playing games with them and making them feel stupid.

Trust, as DeVito (2004) states, enables people to feel comfortable around others without the stress, fear, and/or anxiety that their own welfare is at risk. Humor helped to establish the trust and rapport necessary to feel safe and secure.

Third, masking behaviors were akin to Hochschild’s (1983) notion of surface acting and

Stanislavski’s (1936) notion of technical or external acting. This involves the outward manifestations of feeling through appropriate gesture and speech, but is devoid of real emotion and inner sincerity. Masked behaviors were useful because they helped to offset competition, criticisms, and conflicts brought on presumably by open and truthful unmasking behaviors. In addition, rehearsing how to mask mistakes made on stage helped to offset anxieties about what to do when the unexpected transpired in front of spectators.

Elements of the Production Process

There were numerous ways in which elements of the production process added to participants’ stress, tensions, and/or anxieties. In the face of these elements, humor generally was absent. Thus, the theories of Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson (1983) are once again operative: when anxieties were high, humor usage was low and vise versa. We might refer to the production elements as situational factors that, because they presented problems to the actors, contributed to their stressors and anxieties (Richmond et al., 1998). In this section we present the problems, and in the next, fifth and final section of the

Chapter, we will talk about the role of humor in offsetting these stressful factors.

The complexity of the acting, voice, and dance in the production constituted one key element the increased actors’ stress and/or anxieties. The production was musically sophisticated, challenging actors and the musical director in terms of learning and sustaining accuracy with the score. The production also contained a myriad of production elements that complicated what actors needed to know and do. Many further were young and in their first lead roles. The sheer amount of lines and lyrics to memorize was

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daunting. As complexities increased so did the group’s level of seriousness, which in turn contributed to everyone’s stress.

With complexity came mistakes and increased ad libbing as well especially when people either lost their way or were motivated to generate audience laughter and other positive responses. As stressors mounted, certain interpersonal or personality clashes ensured, further driving up stress levels among cast and crew, ambivalent designers and staff, and others.

Additional factors increasing stress were found in the technical aspects of the production. The quality of the orchestra concerned many, including the musical director. The sets had a number of issues, ranging from its raked nature, unsafe facings, the large size of the steps, and various moveable set pieces.

Difficulties with smoothly operating props and properties also caused tensions. Dim lights and echoic, muffled, delayed sound and sound effects also were a problem for many. The sound system created unwanted feedback as well as low ranging and non-discernable sound levels some of the time. Further, there was a case of a misfired flash pot, a pyrotechnic used for effect just as there was the irritating and allergy inducing effects of a fog machine also used in the show.

Participants were happy with their make up, costumes, and several dressers for the most part.

With some exceptions, these areas were by far noted by everyone as the best technical aspect of this production.

Criticisms, Competition, and/or Conflicts

Criticisms

Again, criticisms were noted to be inevitable in learning the craft of theatre, given through criticisms people improve their level of knowledge and skill. The formal mechanism for communicating criticisms was through note-giving sessions. In these sessions, the artistic director focused on learning lines, voice projection, diction, emotional life, and correct movements on stage. The musical director focused on accurate notes, rhythms, and tempos, voice projection and diction, and characterizations.

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Informal mechanisms for feedback were used by actors/performers as well. For instance, they sought feedback from teachers, such as vocal teachers and other directors in the Department, outside of rehearsals. They were motivated to do these because they feared that Ted was providing too little of it to do the best they could in their roles. Peers also shared feedback with one another both in terms of helping each other interpret the directors’ notes and in terms of personal opinions. Sometimes feedback was unsolicited, and may even have been hurtful to others, but most of the time it was designed to help.

All forms of criticisms could be stressful. However, humor helped soften them. Actors began to become critical of themselves as performances drew close. This self-criticism and increased motivation to do well augmented everyone’s seriousness, which in turn tamed the amount of humor that had been used early on in the production process. Humor usage at this stage paled in comparison to that which would be revitalized after performances commenced.

As Chapman (1983) points out, humor is an indirect form of communication that helps people to express emotionally charged messages, like criticisms, quickly and acceptably. This was especially true in the current theatre context wherein not all individuals knew each other well, but their relationships called for trust and cooperation. In this way, humor during criticisms served the humanistic function of allowing participants safety through trial balloons and for face-saving devices. In Gruner’s (1997) view, humor helped to create play frames that allowed participants to “let it all hang out” so they could laugh about even the “unfunny” or the “unspeakable” (p. 46). Wilson further explains that humor was able to ease tensions for participants by arousing them and then quickly releasing them.

Competition

The musical director, Shawn, observed the most competition. He felt that there was a good deal of competition among actors, particularly those at a mid-level range of talent, or those who presumably lacked full skills development (Friel, 1999; Phillips, 1977). This competition caused them stress and anxiety, he claimed. However, he was concerned that these individuals lacked a clear understanding of what was good, better, and best performing. This might be explained according to Roth’s et al. (1986)

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findings that favorable self-images and high self-esteems might be positively correlated with the tendency to overemphasize one’s positive attributes. In addition, Lefcourt (2001) found that people sized up situations based on the degree of threat in it; this is known as a “primary appraisal.” Then they assessed their own capabilities for controlling stressors in the situation. If they deemed their abilities adequate, they were more likely to engage in problem- or emotion-focused behaviors.

Shawn also felt that the Theatre Department competed from patrons through the quality of their productions perhaps at the expense of the processes involved in training young performers. From

Shawn’s perspective, he was forced to compete for time to work with the cast on their music and vocal dynamics in the singing of this show. Because he did not have enough time, he experienced stress and tension.

From the artistic director, Ted’s, perspective, competition was an inaccurate word, since he believed actors wanted to be the best they could be. Competition only inspired greater attention to one’s instrument and how to refine it for greater versatility and effectiveness on stage. Any competition with one’s self was viewed as healthy, not overly taxing or stressful, and perhaps essential for doing the best one could. But because he believed the Department created a safe haven for actors, they could compete with each other in subtle and harmless ways as well.

One designated space for competition was the female dressing room just prior to and during performances. Apparently, women actors encouraged humor as a means of competing with one another to do the best they could on stage. As a rule, by keeping the humor ball bouncing, everyone generated a level of spontaneity and creativity required for unexpected events, and reduced anxieties nightly that were high prior to curtain. Humor also lightened the mood, and enhanced a sense of relaxation and well being prior to facing new audiences.

Conflicts

There were various ways in which actors and others experienced stress and/or anxieties as a result of conflicts within this production. When conflicts ensured, humor declined. According to Buss et al.

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(1984), collaborative creativity requires cooperative interactions. On the other hand, it is known that because conscious interpretations are subjective, perceptions vary. Thus, though collaborations uncover a storehouse of ideas, they may lead to conflicts.

Venting negative emotions was one way in which conflicts were communicated and also resolved, returning participants to a state of homeostasis (Littlejohn, 2002; G. D. Wilson, 1994).

Sometimes actors wanted the directors to solve their interpersonal conflicts, but the directors, especially

Ted, would have preferred that they solved their own issues, though no known instruction was provided for doing so. Sometimes actors vented their negative feelings about aspects of the production, such as casting or holding rehearsals on September 11.

For another, Ted pointed out that a natural tension existed between actors and directors due to their status differences (Chapman, 1983; Provine, 2000). This was because of the clash of objectives between the two. It was role of directors to instruct and discipline. It was the role of actors to stretch possibilities and create. As such, to offset this conflicted situation, Ted metaphorically viewed his role as that of a parent in a family with the actors as his children.

At least ten additional areas are discussed in Chapter 3 as contributing to stress, tensions, and/or anxieties within this production. First, the larger cast and crew size generated some divisiveness, leading to greater heterogeneity and less rapport. Second, the events of September 11 have been well established as creating conflicts between actors and directors. People who wanted their own way above and beyond that of others were known as divas, and they created stress. Again, ad libbing and upstaging fostered anxiety about the unexpected, making actors potentially look bad on stage. Various unsafe uses of weapons and injuries became sources of tension. In addition, there were a couple of interpersonal conflicts among cast and crew. Ted claimed that familiarity bred contempt when he became frustrated with actors one evening during performances. Naturally, when the fire alarm went off during the last performance, a range of responses ensued, some of which were conflicted, resulting in anger and frustration.

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Many of the above categories involved what V. Turner (1974) would refer to as a “breach.” A breach noticeably breaks a binding social rule or norm related to morality, etiquette, a custom, or a law.

The breach may be spontaneous or planned, and often leads to what Turner calls a “social drama.” Social dramas, Turner contends, arise in conflict situations, and consist of narratives, like histories, folk-tales, stories, and gossip, for example. Indeed, when actors/performers felt that someone had committed a breach, such as Gertrude’s ad libbing or violation of social taboos, they enacted social dramas about them, mainly by gossiping, but also resulting in confrontation.

Each breach led to a crisis period marked by socio-cultural pressures for people to conform to, transform, or deviate from the current code for conduct. Socio-cultural pressures to conform to normative codes were intensified after the breaches. V. Turner (1976) points out that people were motivated to address infractions immediately, given that breaches tend to cause groups to splinter and that breaches widen and spread rapidly. To Schechner (2002), this was because one crisis has the ability to turn into a succession of more open crises, each open to the view of all and more menacing than the last. No crises went far in this production. Perhaps the most insidious ones centered on conflicts between the cast and crew members and September 11.

During the transition between a breach and resolution, there is a period Turner (1982) refers to as

“liminality,” a threshold or limen. This transitional period exists in between old social positions and reincorporation into new ones. Myerhoff (1982) contends that periods of liminality are dramatic occasions when people are most teachable, given they are anxious for resolutions.

Finally, V. Turner (1982) refers to “redressive” or remedial procedures, ranging from formal to informal modes of conflict-resolution. The goals are to reassert and reaffirm overarching values. This requires attention to key issues between competing parties. If such issues are glossed over, consensus or compromise will be impossible, and affairs may revert back to a crisis mode.

The redressive stage also embraces social and plural reflexivity, according to Myerhodd (1982) and Turner (1976, 1982, 1986). “Reflexivity” means that we show ourselves to ourselves in moments of

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heightened consciousness; we also see how others see us as a result of the deeply enriching experience of remediation. When we are open to experience, as Chapman (1983) notes, we become both actor and audience with enriched insight into our lives and memories. We begin to see the interconnectedness of our lives, as parts relate to the whole. Reflexive moments make us aware of issues of personal as well as political and economic power. At these times, we focus on repair, change, and/or creative possibilities.

Actors would have been by far the ones to demonstrate reflexivity as a result of conflicts

(Myerhoff, 1982; Turner, 1976, 1982, 1986), but there was little evidence of this effect. For one, the confrontation between Mitchell and Gertrude made her aware that her ad libbing disturbed others. The experience heightened her anxiety, making her stop such actions in this context, though ideas regarding future resolutions were unclear. What reflexivity might have transpired as a result of diva moments, weaponry, injuries, or the fire alarm was inconclusive as well.

Rather Mitchell’s act of reprimanding Gertrude involved what Fine (1983) calls “social control.”

That is, Mitchell served to exercise social control by encouraging Gertrude to accept the norms of the upper classmen represented by him within this theatre context by discouraging deviance through ridicule of her. Of course, he was direct in communicating the unacceptability of ad libbing to Gertrude, so to view him as using even a negative form of humor is a stretch. On the contrary, Mitchell seemed to care little about risking rebuke from Gertrude, so impression managing his message to her was not an objective (Goffman, 1959).

Most of the reported conflicts within this production did not involve humor as a means of offsetting, softening, or resolving them. Rather they involved more direct confrontations that were talked about or written about and perhaps resolved (e.g., a couple of interpersonal conflicts or injuries) or perhaps left unresolved (e.g., such as diva moments, September 11, cast and crew size, or the fire alarm).

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The Interior Spaces: What Role Did Humor Play in Helping to Cope with Stress, Tensions,

and/or Anxieties?

This fifth and final section of Chapter 4 opens discussion on what role humor played in helping actors/performers in the musical theatre production under study cope with their stressors, tensions, and/or anxieties. Included within this discussion are the following five main points: confidence or esteem boosters, socializing, regulation of moods and emotions, release of creativity and spontaneity, and solace through rituals and superstitions. Each main category is sub-divided into various sub-categories.

Confidence or Esteem Boosters

As noted already within Chapter 3, humor, ranging from light and amusing to sarcastic and disparaging, was the prescribed antidote to stress, tension, and/or anxieties in this production. In other words, humor served as the key confidence booster among participants, helping them to play and have fun, to relax and unwind, and to gain creative inspiration. However, when we considered confidence or esteem boosters, we found that participants used techniques in addition to or in concert with humor. For example, under confidence or esteem boosters, we will discuss: important self-help methods, releasing tensions from criticisms and seriousness, reducing tensions through positive feedback, compliments, and encouragements, and reducing them through acceptance and preparations.

Reducing Tensions Through Self-Help Methods

Some examples of how actors tried to offset their stressors, tensions, and/or anxieties are discussed briefly below. Blake, Hilda, and Bettie noted that, in general, anxiety was a necessary part of theatre performance. Some of it was needed to be effective on stage, as the Yerkes-Dodson theory

(Leary, 1995) illustrates. That is, every task we encounter requires an appropriate level of stress to complete it, though that may vary per person.

First, the majority of actors—John, Flo, Nathan, Richard, Gertrude, Constance, Mitchell, Rue,

Cynthia, Luke, Blake, and Ralph—noted that they experienced negative self-talk as a result of self-doubt and worry about their performances. To cope with such self-downing, actors tried to stop their negative

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thinking, to think the best of others and themselves, and/or to give themselves “pep talks,” as Constance called them.

Similarly, Ted noted that positive feedback and compliments helped actors feel accepted and liked, which built up their self-esteem and confidence. These strokes from directors, teachers, and peers helped actors/performers feel good about themselves cognitively, physically, and in terms of their skills.

One of Clevenger’s (1959; Daly & McCroskey, 1984) three response domains proposes that inappropriate cognitive processing leads to fears and anxieties. Very basically, since negative cognitions lower esteem, substituting positive statements for them raises esteem and lowers anxieties. As a learning theory based model, this assumes that apprehension and avoidance can be unlearned. In fact, people can be presumed to have the requisite skills to perform competently once negative self-statements about their skills are reduced (Behnke et al., 1981; Glaser, 1981).

Thus, as Epictetus stated centuries ago, “People are disturbed not by things, but by the views they take of them” (Ellis, 1995, p. 53). Along these lines, Cann et al. (1999) note that one’s perceptions of life events are key to how they interpret and feel about them. Humor counteracted negative thinking in this context, buffered the impact of stressful events, led to laughter that reduces tension, and activated immune systems. But it also mainly increased positive affect and positive responses to life events. Lefcourt’s

(2001) concept of perspective taking humor supports this notion, as does Abel’s (2002) concept of a cognitive-affective shift away from negative affect and towards positive. In all cases, humor served to restructure participants’ perceptions of situations and to help them adopt coping strategies for stress.

In his theory of response domains, Clevenger (1959) advocates physiological responses as yet another conceptual domain for understanding the self-perceived roots of anxiety and its leading treatment methods. First, when participants were fearful and anxious, some form of excessive physiological activation occurred. For example, Flo, Nathan, Mattie, Hilda, Bettie, Richard, Rue, and Luke described physical symptoms, such as a quivering voice, reactive noise in their heads, the inability to swallow, a tightening of the throat, rapid heart beat, sweating palms, and butterflies in the stomach. In order to remedy these symptoms, some used physical activity akin to Jacobson’s progressive muscle relaxation

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(Schneier et al., 1996) or aerobic exercises (Padus, 1992). Others used positive self-talk (Ellis, 1995;

Fremoux, 1984; Fremoux et al., 1979; Maultsby, 1984). Nathan claimed to use meditation (Bensen,

1976, 1984). Richard used deep breathing (Padus, 1992). Finally, Rue focused on skills development to offset her physical anxieties through thorough preparation (Phillips, 1977).

Many participants of course used humor as yet another means of offsetting both cognitive and physiological symptoms of stress. As Abel (1998) found, humor had a buffering effect on physical symptoms related to stress for both males and females, though, as research claims, women reported more stress-related symptoms in general than men. Humor also was used to positively reframe events. Positive reframing, as reported by Lefcourt (2001) serves as a defense mechanism similar to role distancing. It involves a perceptual adjustment directed toward a more positive view of an event, regardless of the unpleasant nature of it, and as such can help to offset physical symptoms.

Third, some actors/performers were concerned about their perceived needs for greater skills development. Flo, Hilda, and Bettie were concerned with their singing. Hilda also was concerned with her dancing, and Maria wanted greater skill at developing roles. Rue helped Maria plan and execute her stage role, which, according to Maria, truly helped her confidence.

Per Clevenger (Daly et al., 1984), the skills deficits model assumes that anxiety and avoidance are the direct result of inadequate behavioral repertoires. Without adequate skills, an individual’s communication interactions result in negative consequences, which in turn may cause anxiety and avoidance (Glaser, 1981). Richmond et al. (1998) note that highly communication apprehensive (CA) people typically believe that they possess skills deficits whereas low CA’s typically do not. This might explain why some actors overrated their abilities during casting and beyond. However, some people had the requisite skills to perform, but irrationally believed they did not, such as Rue, Hilda, and Flo. Much again depends on how a person thinks about both a situation and their physical, affective, and behavioral responses to it.

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Phillips (1977) excludes anxiety as the causative agent of avoidant behavior, and clarifies that his term, reticence, is the result of rational or irrational self-perceived communication incompetence or skills deficits. He adds too that faulty skills could be the result of inadequate learning or anger, depression, or shame. These may be explanations for why Shawn tried to work with actors on their techniques for acting and performing. This also may be why actors used classroom teachers and other directors to coach them in the parts in this production.

Anxiety remedies discussed thus far plus some additional ones appeared to be helpful to actors in terms of their skills development (Friel, 1999). For example, based on acting texts, observations, and interviews with actors, training in physical and vocal relaxation, and breathing are included in acting programs routinely. Visualization (or guided imagery) is included frequently. Equally important is the skills training gained in rehearsals and performances, and through life experiences and successes.

Additionally, anxieties may be said to have been reduced in the following ways: through not only a sense of humor, but social support systems, professional acceptance and approval, constructive feedback, constructive competition with the self, democratic directing practices, learning to accept anxieties and to focus, psychological counseling, an unconditional love for theatre, a strong work ethic, and performance successes. Since constructive feedback builds confidence, actors’ perceived lack of feedback about their characters and the show’s vision might reveal why actors felt so distraught without it.

Releasing and Reducing Tensions from Criticisms, Competition, Conflicts, and Seriousness

Humor has been noted repeatedly to soften criticisms as well as competition and conflicts. By breaking tensions and enabling people to have fun, it further helped people from becoming too serious.

But it also allowed others to be honest in their assessments of stage roles, whether their own or others.

Feedback presented humorously did not have to be diluted or denied to save face, so humor fostered objective, yet truthful feedback about oneself or others.

Lefcourt (2001) notes that, in the Lazarus and Folkman model, one’s perceptions of an event determine how he or she will respond to it. The first part of this two-part model addresses the function of

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primary appraisals, which refer to the degree of threat we assign to a situation after attending to and appraising it. Secondary appraisals involve an assessment of our own capabilities to control the stressors in a given situation. The more capable we feel about coping with stressors, the more likely we are to engage in the following two coping behaviors: first, emotion-focused coping involves managing our emotions in response to events that have transpired already; second, problem-focused coping involves generating strategies for managing stress via our actions.

It would be fair to conclude that actors/performers in this production utilized primary and secondary appraisals (Lefcourt, 2001), though their ideas about how to handle every situation would not have been rated as communicatively sound. For example, the way Mitchell confronted Gertrude about ad libbling on stage would be one example. Others would include Cynthia’s decision to dress with gay males in the production, the weapon’s masters’ confrontation to John regarding use of his weapon, and the actors’ ways of handling the events of September 11, injuries, and other events. For further explanations of how participants dealt with criticisms, competition, and conflicts, see the final subsection of the fourth section of this Chapter, which deals with what contributed to stress, tensions, and/or anxieties in this show.

Socializing and having fun with cohorts also released a lot of tensions for participants, and thus kept them from becoming overly critical or serious (Chapman, 1983; Nezlek et al., 2001; Pollio et al.,

1996; Robinson, 1983). Lillian noted that it was not the actors’ job to offer up comments about others’ performances, given if they did, it could lead to hard feelings. Even in the female dressing room, there was no mention of comments about each other’s performances. However, there reportedly were various quick costume changes, costume repairs, and complaints about discomforts or problems on stage. Thus, even the dressing room could be a stressful place. As a result or in spite of this fact, the rules governing dressing room humor required that people kept the humor going to prepare for their on stage work.

Tensions between the cast and crew stemmed from a lack of perceived appreciation from the actors/performers for the technical staff. This was due to some level of competition between them

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(Gruner, 1997). Bettie reported that actors often became self-absorbed, and thereby failed to understand that the quality of their show would be diminished greatly without a crew to run its technical elements.

As such, they ignored the crew or bossed them around to the point that the crew began to view them as divas. Bad feelings among the crew died hard, especially when considering the content of their class papers following the production. This also was evidence of the widespread absence of humor between cast and crew (G. D. Wilson, 1994).

In sum, when participants failed to receive positive input from others, they began to engage in negative emotions. This led to low self-esteem and confidence. As Huizinga (1976) asserts, humor and play helped participants guard against the uncreative and rigid effects of criticisms, competition, and conflicts, such as self-doubts, self-downing, and negative affect. But sometimes their negative emotions were so strong that positive affect was diminished surrounding isolated events, as noted by Lefcourt

(Snyder, 2001) and Nezlek et al. (2001).

Reducing Tensions Through Positive Feedback, Compliments, and Encouragements

Humor and laughter can be viewed as humanistic methods of communicating with others. As

Chapman (1983) notes, one thing that is clear from humor research in social psychology is that “humor and laughter are linked to communication” (p. 149). It allowed participants to engage in indirect communication to express emotionally charged messages quickly and acceptably to others. This was especially useful when people did not know each other well, but their relationship called for trust and cooperation.

Like Martineau (1972) notes, participants’ humor occurred within the group as a whole and within subgroups of the larger group as well. When positive humor was employed, it encouraged ensemble integration, but when disparaging humor was used, it encouraged disintegration with larger group members. This is another explanation for frictions between cast and crew. Headset humor, due to its disparaging nature, created unresolved conflicts and created divisiveness rather than solidarity within the group.

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Since performers in general have a high need for approval, acceptance, and liking, a lot of esteem and confidence was boosted when they received positive feedback, compliments, and encouragements.

Ted, the artistic director, found positive feedback to be essential to working with actors. Verderber et al.

(2005) support the concept that positive feedback fosters positive performances. Pollio (1983) likewise claims that humor adds a wealth of positive feelings to groups and even fosters empathic responses toward self and others. It is a means of meeting obligations, coping with situations, and engaging with others communally.

Ted liked to praise actors/performers for having a breakthrough in some way or for having successfully corrected something noted previously by him. However, since actors could be sensitive people, he sometimes offered his praises in private rather than in public. This presumably depended on the individual. At the least, high self-monitors, extraverts, and those low in self-consciousness may have enjoyed public praises and encouragements.

Individuals generally viewed people with a high sense of humor as reducing significantly more uncertainty and social distance in conversational settings (Graham, 1995). This is why actors remained largely positive towards fellow actors. Graham’s point may be illustrated via the opposite context as well, such as when Ted’s ambiguous feedback or lack of feedback generated frustrations among actors. Their negative affect resulted from their need for Ted’s attention, encouragement, and support. For example,

John felt very welcomed by Ted. The humor Ted used with John made him feel liked and accepted. This meant a lot to John. Other actors also needed to feel that there were open channels of communication, that there was ample trust among others, especially Ted and Shawn, and that they mattered. Rue and

Cynthia were particularly interested in feeling liked, supported, and encouraged by Ted and Shawn.

Reducing Tensions Through Acceptance of Diversity and Preparation

The theatre is known for casting the widest possible net in terms of its acceptance of different kinds of people. Diverse people of the world not only are engaged in theatre, but they are characters in and sometimes the subject(s) of numerous plays. Thespians have wide latitudes of acceptance for the

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young and the old, males and females, homosexuals and heterosexuals, and folks of varying nationalities, religions, politics, and group affiliations.

Indoctrination into what is acceptable and unacceptable behavior begins in infancy and continues through the life span, according to Lorenz (1976). Mannerisms are strictly imposed codes of conduct that

Erik Erikson refers to cultural pseudo-speciation. Whereas we often view the social rites and norms of other cultures as inferior to our own, and their people as sub-human, we have learned invaluable lessons from history – that humans must build bridges of tolerance between and among themselves regardless of their cultural pseudo-speciation. This provides strong support for theatre arts as a vehicle for encouraging acceptance of world diversity.

Actors, along with their idiosyncrasies, engaged in behaviors that others typically would not.

They were more exploratory and open to their own psychology and sexuality than most. They violated social codes of conduct in order to fulfill their creative and experimental missions. This led to the further need to be open and accepting. For such reasons, Cynthia was allowed to dress and undress with the gay males in the males’ dressing room. These kinds of unique and broadly accepting norms and expectations are part of what Fine (1983) refers to as a group’s idioculture – a term that is wholly applicable to the current context.

Humor’s fun, amusement, enjoyment, and pleasure were highly effective techniques for maximizing positive outcomes, according to Podilchak (1992). Thus, those who joked together tended to negotiate relational identities and boundaries more effectively. In addition, humor helped people to self- disclose, to reduce anxieties, and to test their similarity of experience, attitude, and skill through safe, low risk communication—all well documented elements of healthy relational development encouraging tolerance or acceptance of diversity. Ruch and Kohler (1998) add that humorous individuals appear to possess more cheerful temperaments that makes them seem to be more predisposed to agree, to be benevolent, robust, and tolerant, and to be more inclined to resist and cope with life’s adversities.

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Furthermore, Pollio (1983) reports that laughter is a form of freedom from personal and social constraints, such as “conformity, inferiority, normality, rationality, naiveté, egotism, and so forth – that serve to limit his or her freedom” (pp. 215-216). This is similar to V. Turner’s (1982) term communitas, which also refers to one’s need to be part of a group that experiences freedom from social constraints.

This further opened participants to tolerance of diversity.

Being prepared for one’s role was important as well. Being prepared for their futures was even more important. Having degrees that would help them get jobs in the theatre and elsewhere was critical.

They also needed to have the kind of training that would enable them to get along with others in varying contexts. Ted noted that this particular Theatre Department worked hard to provide both.

Socializing

In this section of Chapter 4, the socializing functions of humor will be explored. In particular, the outcomes of socializing on the musical theatre ensemble under investigation, five other categories will be addressed: relational development, encouraging group cohesion and membership through inside humor, leveling the playing field between and among participants, socializing outside of the production, and relationships with authority figures. Many categories intersect and overlap with others, but also contain unique features.

In general, actors/performers used the following terms or expressions to refer to the benefits of humor in socializing or establishing good working relationships with fellow actors/performers: keeping things light, cutting up and socializing, breaking the ice, leveling the playing field, being comfortable to be vulnerable, working and having fun together, and freeing oneself to be creative. It was good to know and get along with one another. Many prided themselves on their relationships within this production.

Indeed, as Chapman (1983) notes, one thing that is clear from humor research in social psychology is that humor and laughter are humanistic and progressive ways to communicate with others.

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Relational Development

First, Mattie pointed out that the Theatre Department, being small in size, had a family atmosphere that nurtured the development of on and off stage relationships. By fostering less competition and gossip, a positive atmosphere aided students in developing and maintaining constructive relations with others. Participants in the current culture were supportive; they wanted others to do well, according to Mattie. As Fine (1983) notes, people are likely to become friends when they work together. The same held true here. Joking, which became an unofficial part of the participants’ roles, helped to relieve the tedium of their jobs and nurture growth and development.

Ted, the artistic director, developed and sustained the family image of the Theatre Department.

The view of one large family created an environment that Fine (1983) refers to as the group’s idioculture

– the local culture of shared language and behaviors. Faculty members were viewed as parental figures, and students as their children. Ted viewed productions as spouses; conversely several actors perceived

Ted’s productions as his babies.

A family metaphor added to a positive atmosphere within which members of this musical theatre production could feel welcomed, safe, and secure. A functional family perspective was maintained by discouraging destructive forms of negative humor. Rather humor was generally positive. Even if teasing, self or other disparagement, or other negative forms of humor were employed, they primarily depicted innocent forms of win-lose/one-up and one-down humor (Gruner, 1997). According to Martineau (1972), such innocent or positive humor fostered group integration; had it been negative, it would have encouraged disintegration and divisiveness.

To illustrate the group’s use of positive humor further, Swartz (1995) describes participants’ positive humor as affiliative, or designed to help people develop relationships. Affiliative humor consisted of harmless wit, nonsense, and other positive forms of humor; the opposite of this was tendentious wit, which separated, differentiated, and distanced people from one another. Liking and attractiveness, the result of perceived similarity, were increased among musical theatre participants via

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affiliative humor (Griffin, 2003; Swartz). This type of humor also reduced social distance, built common ground, invited conversation, allowed for safety, perspective, and face saving, and promoted psychological growth.

Participants reaped many relational benefits from the use of positive or innocent forms of humor.

As Pollio et al. (1996) point out, “the social event of humour allows for the cathartic release of aggressions, hostilities and taboos and provides for a positive-public affirmation that such activities are acceptable providing an appropriate balance is maintained” (p. 241). Humor helped to maintain an appropriate level of balance and to offset negative behaviors. It also allowed participants to engage in open, empathic, assertive communication as opposed to emotionally closed, distant, non-confrontational patterns of interaction (Chapman, 1983). Further, it allowed participants to engage in an indirect form of communication that helped them to express emotionally charged messages quickly and acceptably in a safe and trusting manner.

Humor also aided in emotional stability. Robinson (1983) views humor as “an adaptive, coping behavior, as a catharsis for and relief of tension, as a defense against depression, as a sign of emotional maturity, and as a survival mechanism” (p. 111). This was evidenced in some participants’ reflections during interviews that humor helped them to maintain decorum and sanity and to avoid depression and other negative emotions. Nezlek et al. (2001) further add that humor is an effective coping mechanism against stress and negative affect. But whether the predisposition to engage in humor preceded its use, or whether its use generated enough success to inspire the predisposition to use it, humor fostered healthy communication.

Many relationships were established because actors found themselves in roles on stage together.

It worked well for John and Cynthia, Flo and Stella, Rue and Maria, Cynthia and Nathan, Mattie and others. Richard felt these relationships were for the good of the show. As Rue pointed out also, no one wanted to find themselves in the unfortunate situation of having a fellow actor, because they were holding spite, refuse to do something on stage because they had failed to be friendly enough to them.

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In this regard, developing relationships to enhance stage work was akin to Schlenker’s (1980) expectancy-value theory. This theory postulates that the primary self-presentational motives of relationship building among actors must have centered around actors’ attempts to maximize expected rewards and to minimize expected punishments. Interpersonal approval, friendship, and solid working relationships were rewarding. In addition, these rewards were positively correlated with individuals’ self- esteem and self-identity factors.

In addition, certain contextual rules for joking were followed. Theses often are implicit and unknown consciously, according to Fine (1983). For example, few made fun of the directors (superiors), yet the directors used humor to develop rapport with actors (subordinates). If disparaging humor was used when the person who was the butt of the humor was present, the humor contained “a veneer of diplomacy,” such as during note giving sessions (p. 166). If the person was absent, “such niceties [could] be ignored and replaced by brutal sarcasm,” such as during headset humor (p. 166). Since it was important to maintain relationships among fellow participants, attention to impression management rules was required (Goffman, 1959).

Moreover, as Provine (2000) proposes, the longer participants in the current study knew each other, the more likely they were to engage in humor and laughter together. At the same time, Chapman

(1983) notes that humor helped newcomers and others to move smoothly from early stages of relational development, such as proposed by DeVito (2004) and Verderber et al. (2005), to relationally closer stages of development. Finally, as Schechner (2002) asserts, humor and play helped participants find their places within the group’s status hierarchy from directors to stage managers to upper classmen to lower classmen and so on.

More serious actors, like Rue, Maria, and Cynthia, seemed to prefer intense one-on-one relationships with others. Other more outgoing and humorous people, like Ted, Richard, Shawn, Ralph,

Lillian, and Bettie, appeared to enjoy multiple interactions with others. In both cases, Ted noted that actors needed some social bonding to help break the tensions of moving from one character to another.

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Again, many scholars recognize various individual differences and preferences in the use of humor

(Derks, 1996; Lefcourt, 2001; Nezlek et al., 2001).

Through their relationships with each other, actors also learned about their strengths and weaknesses as performers. By being with others, they came to know themselves better. Based on

Cooley’s looking glass self, Mead (1934) would refer to this phenomenon as the generalized other. A circle of friends was uplifting and leveled the playing field. In other words, paradoxically, “initially free and innovative relationships between individuals are converted into norm-governed relationships between social personae” (V. Turner, 1982, p. 47). Turner continues to point out the paradox inherent in this concept—“that the more spontaneously ‘equal’ people become, the more distinctively ‘themselves’ they become; the more the same they become socially, the less they find themselves to be individually” (p. 47).

Encouraging Group Cohesion and Membership Through Inside Humor

Group cohesion within this musical theatre context was encouraged and demonstrated in various ways. First, the need to work cooperatively involved numerous ritualized activities inherent in the rehearsal and performance structures and processes of this production. According to Lorenz (1976), these ritualized processes helped to distinguish this group from others, and in essence, to build group cohesion by inhibiting aggression and encouraging the formation of relational bonds. Actors were required to observe certain mannerisms and/or norms during this production in order to get along with others: saying thank you after individual notes were given, refraining from ad libbing and upstaging on stage, deferring to upperclassmen for help when needed, taking the show seriously, and, at the same time, having fun by engaging in play and humor. Such adherence to group norms served to keep conciliation and/or social cohesion high. Violators, such as Gertrude and John, were negatively sanctioned in public (G. D. Wilson,

1994).

Caron (2002) reminds us that since cohesion was necessary in this context, tensions had to be lessoned through appeasement gestures, such as smiling and laughter. By smiling, cast, staff, and crew signified non-aggression, friendliness, and submission. This paved the way for relational development,

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especially with newcomers. When smiling was absent or sarcastic, such as between cast and crew, people became agonistic. Although there can be ambivalence or confusion about the meaning of smiles or laughter, few if any such examples were noted herein.

Inside humor was a key way in which group members built group cohesion. A lot of the group’s inside humor focused on the content of the production and prior relationships. Prior relationships with people meant that they had a history together and most likely had a deeper level of relationship than strangers or acquaintances (DeVito, 2004; Verderber et al., 2005). Theoretically, there should be greater mutual trust and respect in such relationships, as DeVito notes. This allowed individuals to tease and joke with one another in ways that people in newer relationships could not enjoy (Wolf, 2002). Mattie and

Richard talked about inside humor within prior relations, and added that a congenial form of deprecating humor was used in such relations. Such inside humor may have related to the Department, interpersonal friendships, dating relationships, and/or other working relationships.

Another observation was that inside humor took place most often within subgroups of the larger group. In both cases, inside humor was pleasing to participants because it reinforced shared thinking, feelings, and experiences. G. D. Wilson (1994) refers to this as “the private language of the in-group” (p.

120). Ted and Shawn, for example, shared a type of humor that playfully poked fun at one another as a means of expressing camaraderie, and the type of congenial feedback they wished to provide to actors/performers. Ted and those who smoked with him at breaks fell into this category as well.

Katherine found Ted to be wrier in his humor when outside smoking. In fact, she felt that Ted was hiding his wry humor by using it in more secluded places during this production due to all the freshmen in the show, my presence, the large cast size, and/or wanting to make a good impression on everyone. Another example was the disparaging type of humor the production staff and crew used toward actors during dress and technical rehearsals and performances via their headset communication systems.

There were other jokes that were part of some of the larger theatre group’s history together.

These jokes may have referred to something that happened in a class or in a former production or, as in

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the following example, may have been generated by a director, Ted in this case, and passed on from cast to cast. For example, when someone indicated that another was going to win the Del Monte Award in

Ted’s productions, it meant that he or she was a “pea head” who had done something dumb, according to

Mitchell. Participants tended to view such humor as positive and a source of esteem for their group as well as to be motivated to affiliate with the group and its norms and values (Fine, 1983; LaFave, 1972).

In this way, as this example provides, inside humor served to exercise social control over group members by encouraging adherence to group norms and discouraging deviance from them.

Leveling the Playing Field Between and Among Participants

Various uses of humor helped to level the playing field among participants. For one, by setting the stage for humor, the directors helped performers and others relate to them as open and approachable adults. They also helped others to reduce biases toward one another, such as ages, class statuses, and/or prior experiences. Thus, upper and under classmen were able to mix and mingle, a necessary condition, given this cast had leads from both ends of the class status continuum.

As Chapman (1983) indicates, humor tends to flow top-down in a hierarchical fashion. Indeed,

Ted and Shawn were in the highest status positions in this production, and therefore, often initiated or at least set the stage for group humor. Actors/performers and stage managers followed suit. Even the group’s clowns, Richard and Hilda, were not the group’s leaders. They enjoyed popularity and affection from others, as Chapman notes, but they still were subordinates – one with a lead and one with a supporting role, respectively. Chapman further contends that, despite status differences, in-group members managed to enhance group morale and solidarity through the use of humor. In this way, humor helped to level the playing field. Martineau (1972) emphasizes this fact by asserting the benefits of positive humor in fostering equality.

However, various social events or parties held during the run of the production included both under and upper classmen in an effort to level the playing field. At one of them Gertrude apparently came dressed in scanty clothing, became inebriated, and made a fool of herself. She also was criticized for self-

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disclosing too much about herself too soon and for ad libbing too much on stage. By breaking the norms of interaction with upper classmen, this student suffered a dressing down for ad libbing and negative gossip about her. Thus, though humor served to level the playing, when group norms were violated, perpetrators learned through ridicule and confrontation that status differences were extant (G. D. Wilson,

1994).

Though there were some issues that were not joking matters, some people could joke with one another about anything. The extent to which actors could joke with one another depended on how long they knew each other and the nature of the relationships. As Fine (1983) notes, friends who had known each other for extended periods of time and/or had lived or hung out together in the same environments were more prone to develop joking relationships. Such group members could vent aggressions and frustrations through bantering and kidding to a degree that would be unavailable to outsiders as well.

Many overall could joke, tease, touch, hug, and flirt together as a means of making it easier to experience a sense of freedom and abandon when working together on stage (V. Turner, 1982). This helped to foster approval, liking, creativity, and reduced conflicts. Ultimately, this leveled the playing field.

Socializing Outside of the Production

Socializing helped to maintain the family atmosphere of the Theatre Department. In order to preserve familial relations, the Department sponsored various opportunities to socialize through informal outings to restaurants and organized parties on and off campus. This appeared to be another aspect of what Fine (1983) refers to as the group’s idioculture. Specifically, there were four planned events – a start of the year party sponsored by the Department, a birthday party for a cast member sponsored by an actor, a party hosted by the musical director, and an opening night party at a local sports bar. All of these events included everyone in this production or at least the cast, stage managers, and directors.

Other small group get-togethers occurred spontaneously with someone asking others to go out to a local eatery after rehearsals. These spontaneous get-togethers may have been announced to the whole group or only to a few. Groups would go to local restaurants, usually ones serving alcohol. This first

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time I was invited I joined a group one evening. At this outing, among the eight to ten people who attended, people ate, talked, played video games, and had a beer or two.

These events increased in frequency as the mounting of the production became more serious. As the production grew more serious, stress increased among participants (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson,

1983). Thus, socializing outside of the production was a way to reengage in humor, relax, have fun, talk, and unwind. In other words, it was, as Nezlek et al. (2001) would say, a coping mechanism to relieve stress and to counteract the production’s seriousness.

Some actors did not attend social outings for different reasons, including personal preferences and values. For example, Hilda did not want to attend these events because she considered her humorous interactions during rehearsals as her socializing periods, and did not want to wear out her welcome. John did not like to go out because, as a freshman, he felt intimidated. Others, like Flo and Stella, did not want to attend these because they did not drink alcohol. But the directors attended a lot of these outings, so there probably was less drinking taking place than Flo recalled from previous years. As a senior, she took the lead in filling Stella, a freshman, in on the social nature of the Department. Stella did not attend these events either. Flo had been to too many wild parties in the past to feel comfortable with these more casual gatherings.

On the other hand, Gertrude, though a freshman, liked to attend these events. However, again, she overstepped her bounds via her dress and her drinking at a party early in the year, so others did not ask her to go out. They were afraid that she would not know how to act. She was unaware of the negative feedback she created, but was not prone to attend these informal events anyway. Such negative sanctions towards Gertrude’s behavior followed suit with the behavioral patterns in response to deviations from norms as found by Lorenz (1976) and G. D. Wilson (1994).

Additionally, there were several dating couples in the group. Nathan and Bettie broke up before the end of the show in part because Bettie refused to make her interactions with Nathan public. Cynthia

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and the assistant director were a couple. Rue and Mitchell had dated for a long time. Richard used to date Peter, but they broke up prior to this production.

There also reportedly were some social cliques in the Theatre Department, but not a lot of them, since most everyone was together most of the time. According to Peter, most cliques were small, and consisted of three or four people. Further, they appeared to be based on class statuses. If you were the same class status, that is, you were more likely to gel or cohere with such peers.

It is worth noting that humor did not occur in a vacuum, but in conversational contexts. In fact, as Provine (2000) states, scholars as well as everyday people have been telling us that talking serves many of the same functions as smiling and laughter. Thus, those situations that favored talking were the ones that also favored smiling, laughing, and the use of humor. Small talk was critical to social bonding and maintaining a sense of camaraderie, as proposed by Tannen (1990). Thus, socializing took place not only in structured and planned outings through the Department or among group members, but back stage during rehearsals and performances.

Relationships with Authority Figures

Ted, the artistic director, was noted to be a significant person to have like you. Actors felt special, non-threatened, relaxed, and free to be themselves when they felt Ted supported and liked them.

If they received too little feedback from Ted, they felt uncertain, frustrated, and negative (Berger, 1987;

Berger et al., 1975; Graham, 1995). Richmond et al. (1998) would refer to participants’ angst about an authority figure, such as Ted, as audience-based anxiety. Actors often had trouble reading Ted. He seemed more complex and critical than Shawn, the musical director. So they feared losing the essential communicative elements of trust and liking (DeVito, 2004; Verderber et al., 2005).

It was important that Shawn liked, accepted, and approved of everyone too. However, unlike

Ted, Shawn was perceived as liking nearly everyone. The status of his feelings appeared to be constant.

People were safer and more secure when they perceived that Shawn liked and approved of them.

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Participants feared Shawn, however, though less so than Ted. Thus, Richmond’s et al. (1998) audience- based anxiety remained in tact with Shawn.

In addition, actors needed to like the directors. This meant that they had to interact with them.

Their common ground was humor and play. Through these two interrelated sets of behavior, they were able to generate a positive relationship with each. This helped with relationships with stage managers and themselves as well. This also helped them gain feedback on a personal level from the directors.

In actuality, there was interconnectedness between and among the directors, actors/performers, and stage managers in this production. They all needed each other to realize their potential and accomplish their goals. Actors needed the directors and staff to like, accept, and approve of them.

Conversely, the directors and staff needed actors liked, accept, and approve of them. Approval and liking needs have been established via the work of Leary et al. (1990), Graham et al. (1981), Jones et al. (1972), and Robinson (1983).

Regulation of Moods and Emotions

In this next section, factors related to the use of humor to regulate moods and emotions in this musical theatre production are addressed. Positive moods and emotions will be discussed first; negative moods and emotions will be presented second; and transformations into characters will be taken up third.

Positive Moods and Emotions

Humor and play served the important function of lightening the mood during all facets of this play production. A positive overall mood helped everyone to have fun and, at the same time, to balance this by enjoying working hard on the production (Deckers, 1988; Littlejohn, 2002). When the mood was positive, positive and playful behaviors surfaced, such as Lillian prancing like a pony, Richard waving enthusiastically to expectant audience members at the end of the production, and everyone cutting up, flirting, and dancing during choreography and photography sessions. Sexual humor also helped to unleash creative impulses and to generate positive emotions and moods through the cathartic purging of aggressive and sexual urges (G. D. Wilson, 1994).

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Some viewed humorous acts as confidence or esteem boosters. By helping to generate positive, coping self-talk among participants, humor generated positive moods and emotions regarding, for example, criticisms, competition, and conflicts (Ellis, 1995; Maultsby, 1984). It also allowed people to offer compliments and encouragements to others. This in turn stimulated feelings of acceptance, approval, and liking. These activities were important, since as Deckers (1998) explains, moods affected attention and perception, creativity, problem solving, cognitive processing and memory, persuasion, and social behavior—all-important phenomena in the life of this musical theatre production.

However, again, when stressors were particularly high, participants’ joking was more difficult to sustain; but when humor was successful in offsetting stress, positive moods tended to surface (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983). Whereas Provine (2000) indicates research that demonstrates a lack of association between laughter and the predictability of moods, Lefcourt (2001) asserts that there is sufficient empirical literature to attest to a significant relationship between measures of humor, life stress, and mood disturbances. For example, Flo, John, Maria, Mattie, Bettie, Cynthia, Rue, and some others talked about humor altering feelings of depression, anxiety, and/or confusion to a significant degree.

Keeping depression and closely associated anxieties under control aided in the development of effective interpersonal relationships necessary for on and off stage relations. Presumably this was because humor served to enhance the experience of positive affect whereas depression and anxiety diminished positive affect, and increased the tendency for negative affect (Nezlek et al., 2001).

Kuiper et al. (1998) show a relationship between humor and laughter, emotional and physical well-being, and interpersonal relatedness. In fact, highly humorous individuals in the present study—

Ted, Shawn, Richard, Ralph, Hilda, Lillian, Bettie, Nathan, and Mattie—were shown to experience fewer anxieties and to be less avoidant of relationships with others. Ruch and Kohler (1998) found that humorous individuals, such as these, tend to be more agreeable, benevolent, tolerant, robust, cheerful, and prepared to cope with life’s adversities.

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Not only did humor help to regulate moods and emotions, but positive and humorous relationships served to help generate positive moods and emotions. According to Mattie, this was why the directors and stage managers tried hard to establish humorous working relationships with performers.

This also reportedly was partly why actors were so eager to establish and maintain positive working relationships with other participants. By lightening the mood and keeping a positive atmosphere, humorous relationships helped them focus and work ahead.

Again, however, neither a positive outlook nor one’s ability to make light of difficult situations was sufficient to produce optimal well-being (Nezlek et al., 2001). Hilda talked about using humor as a way of covering up her true, innermost feelings of inadequacy in singing and dancing. Likewise, others confessed that humor and laughter helped them produce Goffman’s (1959) concept of a front or a mask to hide their honest, less positive feelings. Richard and Mattie used it to keep from worrying about succeeding in their first lead roles. Rue used it early on to be socially correct, but preferred to be serious.

As Provine (2000) notes, whether participants were happy or sad, some continued to laugh and smile in socially expected ways in order to make preferred impressions on others. Thus, sometimes their laughter and smiling represented socially motivated impression management techniques (Schlenker et al., 1982).

What determined people’s real versus masked moods reportedly related to a link between humor usage and personality traits (Deckers, 1998; Lefcourt, 2001). Lefcourt says that optimism and all personality traits are positively correlated with humor as well as robust, full, Duchenne laughter. As

Deckers (1998) notes, those who were upbeat and cheerful much of the time, such as Stella, Lillian, and

Shawn, tended to be happy and optimistic Duchenne laughers; if they were fearful and anxious, such as

Rue and Flo, they tended to be shy, loners, and/or serious; if they were irritated or angry, such as Mitchell and certain crew members, they tended to be aggressive and/or depressed. Of course, participants were observed to be calm one day and fearful the next, elated about one thing and depressed about another, humorous one moment and then serious, demonstrating that moods vacillate and change (Deckers, 1998).

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The moods of participants determined whether they saw the glass as half empty or half full. As

Deckers (1998) points out, participants could choose to voluntarily regulate their own moods or have their moods regulated by external events. By engaging in humor, laughter, play, and smiling, participants could help to regulate their own moods internally. Kassin (2004) reports that this reflects the James-Lang theory of emotion, which proposes that behaviors stimulate emotions. On the other hand, external factors could affect positive moods, such as others’ use of humor, encouragement, compliments, approval, or performance improvements or successes. As Lazarus (1982) contends, if we perceive such external events as positive, our cognitions shift in the direction of positive affect and mood.

Martin, Kuiper et al. (1993) also refer to objective appraisals of life events using cognitive strategies as appraisal-focused coping. Lefcourt (2001) and various colleagues call this perspective- taking humor. Again, the more positive participants’ appraisals the less stress participants experienced.

Examples would include views of costumes and makeup in this production. Conversely, the more negative the appraisals, the more threatening events were viewed, and the more stress they experienced.

Examples would include September 11 and ad libbing.

In fact, humor served multiple and overlapping functions within this production. It helped to break the tension, lighten the mood, have fun, develop relationships, alter perceptions, focus and work truthfully on roles. Usually humor served a positive role. Other times, it backfired, such as when either the type of humor used created a negative tone in someone else or when others preferred to be serious. In effect, humor and seriousness, stress and relaxation, and positive and negative valence were interrelated and interconnected.

Negative Moods and Emotions

For a production that appeared to enjoy generally positive behaviors, there were more negative moods and emotions to report than anticipated. Primarily, however, what surfaced were ways in which humor—as a generator of positive moods and emotions—helped to alter negative moods in a positive direction. Negative moods tended to set in as stress, anxieties, and seriousness mounted over time. For

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example, participants experienced embarrassment from criticisms as well as tensions from competition and anger from conflicts. Production elements were frustrating. Add to this individual differences in needs for approval, certainty, and ways of coping with personal shortcomings, uncertainty, and masking and unmasking behaviors, and it was unsurprising that boredom, anger, depression, embarrassment, and frustrations occurred at least some of the time.

First, as a means of softening criticisms, competition, and conflicts, humor helped actors/performers avoid feelings of shame and embarrassment, anxiety, or anger and hurt. Both the givers and receivers of criticisms benefited. Givers, such as Ted and Shawn, were allowed to feel good about themselves because they were able to offer up suggestions for improvements without unduly hurting others. Instead they could feel as though they were helping others and/or others were responding to them.

They also were able to compete with themselves and to resolve their conflicts in efficient ways. At the same time, receivers of criticisms, competition, and conflicts were allowed to save face, to feel good about themselves, and to receive hopefully useful information to help them improve and/or cope. Humor further helped performers cover up feelings of inadequacy regarding their singing and/or dancing skills, or frustrations with ad libbing or upstaging, for example.

Lefcourt (2001) would refer to the directors’ strategy to use humor to offset stress and anxieties in general as problem-focused coping, and he would refer to the actors’/performers’ ability to manage their emotions in response to criticisms as emotion-focused coping. By using these techniques and various forms of humor, such as self-deprecating humor, in particular, everyone was allowed to distance themselves from their own problems, to gain perspective, and to foster social approval (Robinson, 1983)

Second, production elements caused tensions and stress. Again, as stressors mounted, so did seriousness; humor and positive affect declined (Martin et al., 1983; Robinson, 1983). Other than costumes and makeup, for instance, various technical elements in this production—lights, sound, sets, props and properties, special effects, and the orchestra—served as situational factors of anxiety that made

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actors/performers noticeably anxious (Richmond et al., 1998). Probably the most anxiety-provoking element was the orchestra followed by the set.

Third, some people were concerned that as seriousness increased, and humor subsided, participants would become difficult to get along with. Attitudes that were good in the beginning of the rehearsal process began to wane in the middle of the process. By hell week, folks were at all time high levels of tension and anxiety. Diva moments occurred with more frequency due to increased tensions, decreased time for self and others, and emotional spillover. Diva moments refer to dramatic instances of wanting one’s own way. They could be interpreted as uppity or self-serving behavior as well. These scenarios were handled once again with humor and positive attitudes, such as “If you cannot change it, at least enjoy it,” “Have a good time,” and “It will all take care of itself.”

Individual differences and personality factors contributed to negative affect as well as positive affect. Since most everyone desired to follow group norms to remain as positive and upbeat as possible, when negative emotions were experienced, they were relegated to Goffman’s (1959) back regions. In the face of the public or in front regions, a smile or an appropriately placed laugh helped to maintain the kind of impression management socially expected.

For example, generally speaking, Provine (2000) points out that laughter involves weak conscious control that is less easily inhibited than smiling. Thus, laughter could be spontaneous, largely unconscious, and involuntary—what Goffman would refer to as feelings “given off,” what Hochschild would call “deep acting,” and what has become known as Stanislavski’s (1936) “method acting.”

Smiling, on the other hand, fell within participants’ conscious and voluntary control—what Goffman would refer to as feelings “given,” and what Hochschild would call “surface acting.” The latter actions helped participants to maintain socially polite appearances by masking their true feelings.

Individual characteristics varied in terms of masking negative behaviors. Those who followed M.

Snyder’s (1987) self-monitoring theory attempted to regulate what aspects of themselves they displayed in public. As R. H. Turner (1980) and Bell et al. (1986) found, highly self-monitoring individuals were

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more likely to make humorous remarks, create humor on demand, and to be rated funny by their peers.

This might include, again, Ted, Shawn, Richard, Hilda, and Ralph. Lefcourt (2001) further notes that highly self-monitoring people were more active and assertive, therefore, more approachable.

Certainly humor served to offset all kinds of negative emotions—boredom, depression, anger, hurt, frustration, and other unpleasant experiences. It could do this by allowing everyone to vent their negative moods and emotions in socially acceptable ways through wit, sarcasm, disparaging, or dangerous humor (Gruner, 1997; G. D. Wilson, 1994). In this way, people veiled or masked their real feelings by making others feel like they only were kidding when they revealed them since they were revealed through humor. This helped everyone deal with his or her disappointments constructively. This was the function of griping and venting in general and of headset communication humor between staff and crew specifically.

Humor revolving around individuals’ behavioral dysfunctions and even bodily functions allowed them to vent personal as well as social frustrations, to channel taboo drive states in acceptable ways, and to better relate to all levels of people (Gruner, 1997). It was a means of combating anxieties and depression and using sociological functions to cope with external pressures in mature and adaptive ways

(Robinson, 1983). Self-deprecating humor allowed individuals to distance themselves from their own problems, and thereby to gain perspective (G. D. Wilson, 1994.). In addition, many forms of humor not only served to build relationships, they allowed for trial balloons and face-saving (Chapman, 1983). In this light, humor that was designed to foster healing relationships had little room for negativity.

Transformations into Characters

Actors/performers must undergo a transformation from the roles they play in life into the character(s) they play in a production such as this, whether it is musical or dramatic. Transformations require alterations of one’s moods and emotions, according to V. Turner (1982) and Apte (1983). For example, upon entry into a rehearsal site, actors tried to leave their emotions from the day at the door to allow room for new, perhaps specialized emotions to permeate their beings. Allowing themselves to

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become immersed in new emotions aided in their transformations from a human being into a character and from a character back into a human being, as Ted proposes. Not everyone has the skills, talent, and training to do this, but many enjoy(ed) the educational and entertainment values of it.

Overall, play is closely connected to the starting point of all social order—ritual. Ritual makes play serious, and through ritual, play rises to a high and, in some cultures, even a holy point. Schechner

(2002) reveals that play melds into drama—something acted out on stage, such as a performance or a presentation of a rite or ritual act. According to Schechner as well, ritual, drama, and play are capable of transforming people either permanently or temporarily. The performing arts trigger temporary transformations whereas funerals and weddings, for example, involve permanent transformations.

Release of Creativity and Spontaneity

Within this subsection of Chapter 4, there are two broad based categories: boosts to creativity and limitations on creativity. Under the first category, three subpoints will be discussed: freedom to create, improvisation, and spontaneity. Under the second category, three additional subpoints will be discussed: lack of change, lack of feedback, and setting the show.

Creativity and spontaneity are elusive concepts that bespeak of talents and skills, but also of aesthetics. Such capabilities were honed in some participants more than others. This fact was due largely to participants’ propensities for such traits, to training and experience, and/or to the discipline required for such skills. Another key point is that both creativity and spontaneity can be learned, and, therefore, improved. A central way in which actors/performers in this production were observed improving their ability to engage in both practices was through the use of humor and play.

Boosts to Creativity

Below is a discussion of factors that boosted creativity among actors/performers. This includes three categories: the freedom to create, improvisations, and spontaneity. First, creativity was accompanied by a sense of freedom. The search for a sense of freedom explained why various actors were interested in improvisation and ad libbing. It helped them to break the constraints of conventional

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ways of working, and instead allowed them to generate numerous ideas freely without judgment; they could experiment with off-beat ideas reflecting new perspectives and perceptions, as Goodman (1983) proposes. As Goodman continues to note, creative endeavors helped to capture participants’ attention, peak their interests, empower their memories, and augment their retention.

For example, dancing attracted participants’ attention and interests, and empowered them to learn their routines organically (Matlin, 2002). It also stimulated them to invent vignettes and tableaux within their dances, as Ted wanted. A large portion of, if not all, social constraints were lifted in order to promote this kind of liberating behavior wherein everyone was free to be physical, flirtatious, and sexual while exploring “daring new combinations and stylistic experiments” (Goodman, 1983, p. 34). Naturally, humor and play ignited actors’ imaginations, contributing to their playful mélange of activities.

Actors/performers were most inclined to immerse themselves in the creative process during highly humorous and emotional moments as well as dance numbers. Eventually they were able to apply such liberating behaviors to singing and acting contexts, but these contexts took longer to stimulate a sense of what V. Turner (1982) refers to “flow.” Flow refers to a state of oneness characterized by freedom and fluidity from one moment to the next. It also is characterized by immersion or the loss of oneself in the act of play. Thus, performers’ experiences were marked as spontaneous and creative when they themselves were merged with their performed activity. Such experiences might be likened to an athlete who is said to be “in the zone” (Schechner, 2002).

In addition, as Charney (1983) asserts, laughter became a catalyst to spontaneity and creativity.

Humorous and comic creativity involved entrée into a mysterious and curious world wherein the omnipotence of humor resided in the types of humor used, including physical as well as verbal techniques and timing. It is hard to define, but creativity leads to laughter, which helps to purge our aggressions, repressions, and anxieties in life, as well as it is a recommended part of self-preservation, health, and social well-being.

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Second, the subject of improvisation surfaces when discussing creativity and spontaneity (Izzo,

1997). Improvisation or ad libbing helped actors/performers keep their performances alive. As Hilda noted, it also helped actors find ways to get laughs when no one was laughing. Some preached the ills of improvisation, but that did not stop many from using it. As Schlenker (1980) poses in his expectancy- value theory, actors engaged in improvisational behaviors because they recognized the rich possibilities improvisations held for creativity, and so they were motivated to use it to do their best.

Of course, improvisation is a specialized type of acting/performing that requires interdependence on others, so it sometimes was difficult for those desiring to improvise to benefit from it. As Spolin

(1963) notes, it requires collaborative cooperation, self-regulation, and concentration. If others were against improvising, presumably because it made them anxious or went against the conventions of scripted works in observed theatre, the necessary relational components of improvisation were ruined.

After the artistic director, Ted’s, blocking and choreography were completed actors were afforded more opportunities to employ improvisation as a vehicle or a springboard to creativity within their roles.

This appeared to become one means of following Ted’s directives to explore and experiment with creative ideas as much as possible. However, negative feedback about ad libbing from certain actors did seem to cause a little of what Johnstone (1979) notes that Shiller called “the watcher at the gates of the mind.” This was the internal critic, the gatekeeper, who inspected and edited ideas. Unfortunately, gatekeeping only caused actors to sabotage improvisational and creative impulses and to block flow.

Third, spontaneity, according to Spolin (1963), involves the freedom to let go and to self-express.

For G. D. Wilson (1994), it is freedom from logical thought. For both, spontaneity led participants in this study to a path of creativity, originality, and inventiveness. Laughter was a form of freedom from personal and social constraints, and as such reflected psychological and physical transformations required for them to invoke spontaneity. Rather than allow themselves to be rigid and inflexible, humor, play, and laughter helped actors break up their psycho-emotional frames of references and physiological functions.

Thus, as Pollio (1983) notes, humor and laughter served a corrective function.

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Without humor, this production would have been stiff and uncreative. Humor was observed to help loosen everyone up not only in their roles and performances, but for coping with unexpected and unpredictable moments on stage. On the other hand, some actors felt that accidental moments on stage led to some of the best outcomes. As Charney (1983) points out, spontaneity was and is a central feature of verbal and physical humor. It aided actors in executing various types of humor on and off stage and in comic technique and timing.

As Charney (1983) notes too, spontaneity was a catalyst to reduced anxieties as well as comic creativity. By helping to purge our anxieties in life, spontaneity along with creativity led to greater confidence and social well-being. Spontaneity, then, as it was a gateway to creativity, was a healthy and necessary quality to possess for the artist.

Limitations on Creativity

Below are various ways in which creativity and spontaneity were limited. Specifically, they were limited by a lack of change, lack of feedback, and setting the show. First, there seemed to be an ongoing concern that Ted was not doing enough to explore the show for more of its comic and creative elements.

Rather the prevailing perception was that Ted was neither making his controlling concept clear nor helping the actors with their characterizations, emotional development, and/or comic timing. However,

Ted asked actors to engage in such explorations nightly on their own.

Primarily actors/performers responded to Ted’s request to explore creative possibilities nightly by engaging in humor and play. However, Ted appeared to mean that he wanted actors to engage in what

Sawyer (1997) refers to as divergent thinking and behaving. This called on actors/performers to brainstorm physically as well as verbally through playmaking behaviors (Heinig et al., 1981; Izzo, 1997).

Their style of playmaking improvisations were close to the commedia dell’arte (comedy of professional artists) and commedia all’improviso (improvised comedy) styles (Brockett, 1996). However, actors’ improvised playmaking and brainstorming sessions did not routinely remained focused. So instead of brainstorming ways to approach their characters, their brainstorming moved, for example, from aspects of

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King Lear to cold beer. Thus, in some ways, actors were as resistant to change as they accused Ted of being, given they had fun, but avoided true experimentation on their own roles to a great degree. Perhaps they did not know how to go about this.

Second, Rue, in particular, as well as others would have liked more feedback in general, especially from Ted. Ted gave an abundance of notes containing useful performance feedback, but the perception persisted that he was avoiding talking about his vision of the production as well as such aspects of the actors’ roles as characterization, emotional development, and/or comic timing. It seemed evident that the need for feedback was high, because although actors received it, they clearly felt that they had received an insufficient amount of it, so their anxieties increased (Richmond et al., 1998).

Third, once the cast reached stagger-through and dress/technical rehearsals, they began to set the show. After this time, it became harder and harder to engage in creative endeavors designed to explore new approaches. That needed to take place, as Ted had pointed out, during the early blocking, choreographic, and review run-through rehearsals. Setting the show was one way in which the show became uncreative.

Another way in which creativity was diminished had to do with very few rehearsals designed to stop and polish key moments. Instead rehearsals ran from the top to the end of a scene or Act routinely.

This structural arrangement contributed to less room for creativity and spontaneity. Directions were rather tight concerning stage business, blocking, and choreography as well.

Solace Through Rituals and Superstitions

As G. D. Wilson (1994) asserts, “Social rituals are recognized by anthropologists as the birthplace of many aspects of performance” (p. 23). Goffman reminds us that performances are rituals that occur in life as well as on stage. Below is a discussion of two main categories of events within the current musical theatre production under study that dealt with rituals: superstitious rituals and playful rituals. Playful and superstitious rituals helped participants to have fun and release repressed negative emotions (Wilson).

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Superstitious Rituals

Superstitious rituals are broken down into four categories. Each will be discussed in more detail below, including two dances—one during the pre-show and one at the ends of Acts I and II— actors’/performers’ preparation, dressing room humor, one-liner rituals, and objects/clothing. Just as

Gmelch (1994) noticed about American baseball players, participants in the current study used superstitious rituals, which were tangible objects, to ensure luck and effectiveness.

The first major superstitious ritual was a dance behind a certain set piece on stage during the pre- show music. The dance was felt to empower its participants to carry out their duties successfully each night—that is, to enhance the chances of a successful performance. The group performing this ritual consisted of the crew working behind set pieces and one actor/performer, Bettie. Though this ritualized dance could have disturbed the set piece or have led to an injury, nothing ever happened.

The second major superstitious ritual was danced in the wings on the stage right side of the stage where most backstage activity took place. Two students—the costume designer and her assistant— performed this dance at the end of each Act at the same time at which the group on stage was performing each Act’s finale. The objective of these two females was to mimic the dancing and singing transpiring on stage. They did not know the routines perfectly, but mimicked them as best as they could, making up lyrics and steps when necessary to closely resemble actors’ actual performances. The goal here again was to insure the smooth execution of these dances, as though if these rituals were not enacted, these particular production numbers somehow would fall apart. These two staff members chose to dance in the wing area with the most traffic, where many items could have been disturbed—curtains, rigging, cables, and set pieces—though nothing ever went wrong.

In all cases, neither director knew that these rituals were transpiring. If they had, they would have most likely asked the staff, cast, and crew to cease their actions. But since they never found out, and nothing ever went wrong, these dances continued for the duration of performances.

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In addition, all dances not only helped crew members build social solidarity with cast members but joining them in their dances, so to speak, albeit off stage, but they helped them to become part of the aesthetic experience of the production, if only through an imitation of each Act’s finale. Durkheim, according to Schechner (2002), would support these reasons as well as one proposing that such rituals distracted participants enough to help them enter the imaginary worlds of their minds for self-expression and release. These activities were akin to what von Gennep (1960) calls rites of passage from one stage of being to another, from the mundane world of being a crew member to the aesthetically rich world of the artist. Again, V. Turner (1982) would refer to these acts as liminoid phenomenon designed to liberate and reintegrate participants into a creative, free, and artistic world.

Another example of preparation involved three actors/performers—Lillian, Mattie, Richard, and a baby doll used as a child on stage. In order to prepare themselves to go on stage and be tender, they released all of their aggressions on this doll. They took pot shots at it, spanked it, and shook it.

In both cases, actors believed that such behaviors would help them insure effective performances.

So they repeated these same actions nightly. Malinowski, according to Hess et al. (1993), would have viewed such actions as means to controlling chance.

Third, humor in the female dressing room was notorious for helping the actresses prepare for their on stage role work. It helped them to relax and loosen up. This was a good place for this, since they would have to be more serious in and around the stage area. Their use of sexual humor also helped to diffuse tensions or frustrations that might have been harbored. It also helped to prime them to respond to potentially unexpected events on stage in the manner in which they were acting in the dressing room.

Cynthia, who dressed with the gay males in their dressing room, felt that the time she spent with them there helped her concentrate on her role. She preferred to be serious. Because the male dressing room reportedly was more serious than the females’ dressing room, Cynthia was more comfortable there.

The females’ dressing room environment involved too much humor, for one, but, for another, it involved

V. Turner’s (1982) concept of social dramas in the soap opera sense. In other words, the dressing room

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was a place for bemoaning problems and conflicts. So there was tension in the dressing rooms that required remedial and reintegration work, which Cynthia was not prepared to expend energy doing.

Sexual humor, again, was witnessed in the females’ dressing room and beyond. This might be viewed as ritualized behavior because it consisted of repeated performances. Two types of rituals embody the use of humor in sexual ways—those that relate to calendrical ceremonies and those that mark rites of passage such as in this case. According to Apte (1983), as in the case of the crew members’ dances backstage, crew members were attempting to burlesque or parody activities going on on stage, and even tease actors. In the females’ dressing room, actresses were attempting to do the same thing to help everyone calm down, prepare for the unexpected, and not take anything overly seriously.

Fourth, some one-liners were used as superstitious rituals. Cynthia repeated a line to Richard each night which helped her feel connected and safe in her role. “Break a leg” is a widely known and used expression for wishing someone good luck on their performance. Indeed, both actions were designed to bring good luck to recipients, as Malinowski (Hess et al., 1993) notes as well as Gmelch

(1994). In fact, some feared that if they did not say these lines, it might cause them bad luck.

Fifth, some actors/performers wore or carried Christian crosses with them or said a prayer prior to performances. Others had a lucky article of clothing, such as tee shirt. These items served the same function as a rabbit’s foot or four-leaf clover. They were superstitious symbols of good luck as well

(Gmelch, 1994; Hess et al., 1993).

Playful Rituals

In this second subsection, playful rituals will be discussed. There are six subcategories: headset humor, new lyrics, graffiti, green gaffer’s tape, and conventional rituals. All of these rituals were observed not only in this production, but have been witnessed in various theatrical contexts. So these behaviors appear to be conventional. Lorenz (1976) might explain this by noting that the theatre is a subculture within which certain behaviors become conventionalized over time—what Fine (1983) coins as an idioculture. Lorenz refers to this as cultural pseudo-speciation—the development of behaviors designed

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to characterize an in-group’s social norms and rites of passage. Indoctrination occurred when the more senior students educated the younger ones in what was acceptable and unacceptable behavior, according to these conventions. Again, the theatre has wide latitude of acceptance for people and activities.

First, just because the term playful is used does not mean to imply that the play involved was positive. That would be relative. Headset humor, for example, was humor via the staff and crew members’ headset communication systems. It was derogatory or disparaging to the actors/performers.

That was the name of the game. It was playful and fun for the crew, but not for the performers. Its purpose was to help the crew unload negative emotions, and have some fun (G. D. Wilson, 1994).

Second, making up playful, humorous, fun lyrics to the songs in this musical theatre production was a fun pastime. As it was repeated often, it became ritualized. The new lyrics consisted of clever plays on words, and in general they parodied the show. This broke up the monotony of rehearsals and performances, and allowed venting of aggressions and frustrations (Apte, 1983; Robinson, 1983).

Third, the benefit of using graffiti for humor was that it could mask an individual’s identity. It also could allow their identity to be known. Either way the function of graffiti was to expose witty and clever sayings as well as sarcastic, caustic ones. So it too was a way to have fun as well as release frustrations and negative emotions (G. D. Wilson, 1994).

Fourth, the technical crew placed green gaffer’s tape throughout the production area on all kinds of technical furnishings and equipment. Its purpose was to symbolize the technical staff’s function of holding the production together. It was a ritualized tradition that participants claimed to have learned from some people on their travels throughout Indiana to Ohio. This allowed the crew to feel good about themselves and their identities as a subgroup of the larger production group (Leary et al., 1990;

Schlenker, 1980). It generated group cohesion and solidarity (Lorenz, 1976; Schechner, 2002).

Fifth, opening night conventions were followed in this production as carried out in productions throughout the theatre world. Outsiders as well as insiders shared flowers, food, cards, and positive wishes. Such gestures expressed good luck on performances (Gmelch, 1994; Hess et al., 1993). These

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activities helped to generate a positive climate, and thereby, to increase the chances of everyone doing well (Verderber et al., 2005).

Conclusions

This ethnographic study focused on the role of humor in the life of a musical theatre production, specifically how humor served as a catalyst to reduce anxieties and enhance performances. Individual actors/performers were the center of the study, but an artistic director/choreographer and musical director were studied as well as three stage managers. The contexts for this research consisted of those events surrounding, leading up to, and intersecting with actual performances on stage, though the emphasis was on off stage or backstage roles.

Results indicate that stage role development was aided by the development of off stage or backstage roles formed through the individual and/or collective use of play and humor. That is, it was discovered that play, and specifically various functions and types of humor, helped performers in significant social psychological ways to prepare themselves for the creation of their stage roles. Such aspects of role development did not have as much to do with acting, singing, or dancing techniques as they had to do with preparing actors for performances by, for example, helping them reduce tensions, manage criticisms, competition, and conflicts, establish positive social relations, group cohesion, and trust, regulate moods and emotions, unleash creativity and spontaneity, and solidify group rituals and superstitions.

A social psychological approach to theatrical role development is enlightening and progressive, interdisciplinary and insightful. Key concepts addressed in the current study’s musical theatre context included: acting, role-playing, performance, and the role of humor and play. In addition, answers were sought to two key questions: (a) what helped, and (b) what hindered actors/performers in the development of their stage roles?

Answers to the aforementioned questions as well as further analysis of data led to the adoption of an architectural metaphor to describe the structural foundation of findings within the current study. First,

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the infrastructure of the musical theatre production studied consisted of (a) the structures and processes involved in the production, (b) who engaged in humor and how, and (c) the ways in which humor contrasted with seriousness. The term infrastructure refers to objective factors external to the participants themselves that affected their experiences of humor and anxieties. Second, the interior spaces of the context consisted of (a) factors that contributed to stress and anxieties among participants, and (b) factors that contributed to helping them cope with stress and anxieties in order to enhance their confidence and role development. Interior spaces refer to factors internal to participants that I either observed or they reported to me in order to describe their subjective experiences of humor and anxieties.

Musical theatre is a context rarely studied from social psychological perspectives. In addition, only one study by Loy and Brown (1982) was found that addressed three key themes within the current study—humor, role development, and theatre. Moreover, no social science studies focusing on stress, tensions, and/or anxieties within a theatrical context were located. Thus, this investigation is innovative and creative. .

Within the present study, participants were found to transform play into numerous humorous events, complete with the idiosyncrasies and complexities of individuals and the production’s structures and processes. A complex picture was presented that further investigation, with special attention to exploration of the interconnectedness of such findings as found in this paper.

In addition, this study has filled in gaps in anxiety literature. Not only has social scientific research largely excluded theatrical contexts and actors and performers, but also it has focused on trait anxieties to the exclusion of situational variants within differing contexts, especially musical theatre contexts (McCroskey, 1984). Such research also has failed to systematically integrate situational determinants of anxiety into a single model (Daly & Buss, 1984). Clevenger (1984) claims that future research should include a classification system that will consider the structure of various social contexts as well as individuals’ transient developments within those contexts. This study proposes to draw conclusions in each area.

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Furthermore, by combining social psychology, communications, theatre, and education, this study probes interdisciplinary and multiple means of understanding various aspects of play and humor. Some scholars call for interdisciplinary cooperation and understanding in future humor research. In particular,

Schechner (2002) is interested in how structures and processes of situations affect the use of play and humor. Derks (1996), Chapman et al. (1996), and Downs et al. (1998) are interested in the nature, types, and/or functions of humor, play, and/or laughter as well as individual differences in the perception and use of humor, and patterns of humor in varying contexts. Finally, Martin et al. (1983) and Robinson

(1983) as well as Martin, Kuiper, et al. (1993) are interested in how humor and play affect stress. This study touches on each of these areas.

Finally, though Chapman et al. (1996) note that most humor research to date has concentrated on the aggressive and hostile roots of humor, humor has a positive side warranting further attention. The greatest part of humor used within this study was positive and nurturing. It helped to generate positive emotions, fun, and enjoyment, to reduce anxieties, and to aid in the development of on and off stage roles.

Many people stand to profit from this study. First, theatre directors of varying types may gain be motivated to establish training programs from which actors/performers in training may be able to reap the benefits of humor as a stress reducer and performance enhancer. Insights from the current project also may help guide all educators, including theatre teachers and directors, in their classroom endeavors and beyond, given the various findings and interpretations included about communication, teaching, learning, and humor. Scholars from various disciplines may find aspects of this investigation fruitful for future research. Students may find some aspects of this study fruitful for their personal, academic, and/or professional lives as well.

Below is a summary of interpretations per main section within Chapter 4. Only the highlights from each category are presented. In addition, there is a discussion of implications for future research.

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The Infrastructure: Rehearsal and Production Structures and Processes

A recurrent pattern of behavior that has been described in this study involves a negatively correlated relationship between humor usage and stress, tension, and/or anxiety. That is, typically as anxieties lessened, humor usage increased; as anxieties increased, humor usage decreased. With moderate levels of anxieties, humor usage continued in an effort to help dispel stress, tensions, and/or anxieties.

This pattern may be more specifically described as involving four quadrants of situations that reflect combinations of high and low humor usage and high and low stress: for example, (a) high humor- low stress situations, (b) high humor-high stress situations, (c) low humor-low stress situations, and (d) low humor-high stress situations. The first quadrant focuses on liberating, fun, social events. The following situations fall within the first quadrant involving high humor and low stress: when the ice had been broken leading to greater comfort, such as during callbacks, the second day of musical rehearsals, and subsequent performances with responsive audiences; when activities were new and, therefore, involved little pressure, such as early Act I and some Act II blocking rehearsals; when the activities allowed for playfulness and liberated creativity, such as during all Act I and II choreographic rehearsals and the photography shoot; and when actors/performers became bored due to reduced attention or focus on them, such as during the technical rehearsal with actors and technicians.

Also high humor-low stress instances occurred when maintenance needs or process leadership and confirming responses were in effect. Presumably this was because humor increased perceived trust and support from others. Additionally, high humor and low stress correlated with high acceptance, approval, and liking as well as group rapport and cohesion.

Further, choreographic rehearsals represented high humor-low stress situations within which participants could distance themselves psychologically from the stress of rehearsals. Dance was physically and psychologically liberating, thus actors were able to be free, playful, spontaneous, and

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seductive. When participants were having fun through dance, they engaged in humor, and lowered their stress.

The second quadrant deals with high humor-high stress situations. First, as pressures to perform stage roles mounted, so did the amount of humor used off stage. Off-stage humor occurred before and after rehearsals, during formal and informal breaks, and as part of socializing contexts outside of rehearsals. In fact, participants recognized that humor appeared to successfully serve as a means of softening criticisms, uncertainties, and certain stage instructions or feedback. Thus, due to criticisms during some Act I and II rehearsals and note giving sessions, humor was increased. The artistic director in particular was prone to using wit, sarcasm, and a fast-paced banter with actors during notes and blocking instructions. Finally, humor usage was high opening night due to the synergistic enthusiasm generated in anticipation of performing before a live audience, including many family members and friends.

Third, some situations were marked by increased seriousness, and also by both low humor and low stress. Such situations transpired when, for example, actors were fatigued, such as during the second performance following the daytime matinee and/or during some rehearsals preceding or following days on which participants had exams, heavy work schedules, and/or heavy social agendas. Some situations called for a serious demeanor based on social norms or situational objectives, such as Green Room Talks.

Other situations called for a serious demeanor based on norms regarding safety, such as the strike. When audience response was low, humor usage was low as well, even though the lack of responsiveness did not always create stress.

Last but not least, because they were very stressful, there were situations that involved very little humor. Such high stress-low humor situations included auditions, casting, the third day of musical rehearsals, rehearsals at the ends of Act I and II, and the last performance with the fire alarm. Also though notes involved a lot of humor from the directors, stage managers, and some cast members, some note giving sessions involved low humor responses from actors due to the stressful affects of certain

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criticisms. It appeared that review run-throughs, stagger-throughs, and dress-technical rehearsals also decreased humor as pressures mounted to polish the show. This pattern persisted when participants’ perceptions or expectations were out of synchronization with realities, when they viewed others or themselves as worse or better than they were.

As situations moved from simple to complex, stress increased and humor decreased. For example, as technical elements were added to the production environment, time was needed adjust to the new and novel. Seriousness increased as well in order to raise everyone’s level of concentration and focus. Similarly, when time was scarce, such as toward the end of the rehearsal process, anxieties and seriousness increased and humor decreased.

Various situational variants were observed as aiding in offsetting anxieties and increasing humor.

Some individuals employed self-help methods to relax and steady their minds and bodies. Meditation, deep breathing, and preparation were key methods of stress management. Some participants relied on humor’s ability to generate positive emotions to help steady them. More frequent interpersonal interactions led to an increase in perceived familiarity and similarity, which led to greater comfort and relaxation for some. Empathic listening and positive regard aided in helping actors/performers deal with differences of opinion regarding casting or various conflicts, for instance.

Informality generated by humor helped to offset anxieties as well. Thus, the more informal the directors were in conducting rehearsals, the more relaxed participants were. In fact, both directors had the power to affect participants’ emotions. For example, the better able they were to reduce uncertainties, and the more accepting and approving, the more others could relax.

When actors/performers experienced growing confidence in their stage work, they appeared to gain greater ownership and less need for others’ liking and approval. Growing confidence grew out of perceived improvements as a result of rehearsals and also, for some, follow-through on motivation to take steps to polish stage roles.

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On the other hand, anxieties were increased due to various factors. For instance, some participants possessed such high needs for approval and liking that they were motivated to avoid criticisms and conflicts at all costs, such as during notes. This presumably was because participants were trying to avoid shame and embarrassment, particularly in front of authority figures and peers. This also is why the directors issued feedback of a personal nature privately.

Also because some participants tended to overemphasize their positive traits while blaming others for their shortcomings, their stress was augmented by contradictory information. According to social exchange theory (Jones et al., 1972), though the converse situation would hold true as well, when others, whose opinions were valued, disagreed, some felt more negatively toward that person, which increased anxieties. Others engaged in venting their negative feelings in order to feel better, largely during casting.

This was because they feared negative reactions, rejection, and the unknown.

Finally, there were said to be tension between the actors and directors that are always part of their relationship in the theatre world. This tension created seriousness, and consequently, generated the need for humor. Again, self-deprecating humor was meant to help participants not take the directors and others so seriously in order to relieve this tension.

The Infrastructure: Who Engaged in Humor and How?

One of the key points to recall about this section of Chapters 3 and 4 is that humor grows and matures as people do. Humor usage depends on our exposure to various roles and situations. The more exposure we have to positive role models for humor, like many things, and the more varied our experiences are, the more diverse and seasoned our repertoire of humorous behaviors. In sum, life prepares us to be more likely to use humor appropriately as an aid to our communication with others as we mature.

As Wanzer et al. (1999) point out, modeling is an important way to enhance the use of play and humor. Modeling, indeed, was operative in this study. Both directors set the stage for humor usage by

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becoming excellent role models for verbal humor. Various cohorts also were leaders in verbal and/or physical humor, although most actors/performers used physical and sexual forms of humor.

Additionally, the type of humor we use relates to our statuses in groups. Verbal humor is a high status form of humor, thus directors and stage managers employed it mostly. Physical humor is a low status type of humor, thus actors/ performers utilized it most. They also frequently used sexual forms of humor. It took rhetorical sensitivity and insight to know what types of humor were appropriate in which situations. Participants appeared to handle themselves well in varying contexts. To complicate things, some actors/performers engaged in verbal humor, and by times the directors and stage managers employed physical humor.

What kind of humor participants used, and how they received humor from others, depended largely on perceptions of humor, in general and of a joke, in particular. The authors point out that people’s perceptions of who is funny and who is not are a good barometer of someone’s actual humor orientation. This held true in the current study.

Some actors used humor initially when building relationships with group members. However, some were not highly humor oriented. So after rehearsals commenced, they engaged in less humor on and off stage. However, due to group norms, they used humor when expected, such as when maintenance functions were high; however, when task functions took priority, they were happy all too happy to comply with a low level of humor.

Self-deprecating humor was used to offset negative attention toward oneself and also to generate greater sympathy and liking from others. Self-deprecation made others perceive one as approachable, a good sport, and able to take a joke. People using such humor avoided taking themselves too seriously.

Certain behaviors that would be negatively sanctioned in most other contexts were acceptable within the musical theatre context. For example, actors/performers used touching behaviors more prolifically than students in many other venues. The unique idiocultural pattern of the group allowed idiosyncratic joking relationships to surface. In particular, choreography, dance, all forms of sexual

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humor, and some dramatizations allowed everyone to unleash their libidinous impulses in order to experiment, explore, create, and touch.

Sexual humor, as noted above, was designed to reduce stress and tensions and to prepare everyone to be creative and spontaneous. Sexual humor caused participants to become buoyant, uplifted, exploratory, and playful. It helped actors center themselves on creative, anti-rule-bound aspects of their social lives. Indeed, sexual humor served as a gateway between conventional, rule-governed and their preferred unconventional, creative worlds. As such, sexual humor was transformative, offering actors/performers liberation, camaraderie, and as such, relief from their stressors.

Participants engaged in the following additional forms of sexual humor, underscoring the extent to which it was used in this production: sexual innuendos, mocking sexuality, nudity, homosexual humor, females imitating males, and vise versa. Much of these types of humor were used in off stage or backstage regions. Many blended both physical and verbal forms of humor, and engaged in role distance while at the same time subscribing to behaviors that developed relational intimacy. Some humor was ritualistic and/or imitative. Often these two phenomena occurred together, such as when each gender imitated the opposite in a fixed, ritualized way, and when the ritualized dances at the ends of each Act imitated performers’ stage dances and songs.

Additional physical activities included how actors animated their eyes, faces, gestures and movements while singing, dancing, directing, breaking, or covering up mistakes both on and off stage.

Amusing physical accidents consisted on a fall and a spill, both of which were amusing because no one was hurt.

Some participants appeared to possess trait-like humor, whether using verbal, physical, or sexual forms of humor. Others did not. For example, Shawn, the musical director, and Ted, the artistic director, were verbal humorists. Richard was physical. Hilda fell into the latter category.

Numerous forms of verbal humor also took place: puns, analogies, similes, and metaphors, stories, onomatopoeia, humorous versus jocular expressions, exaggeration, mimicry, understatement, wit,

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sarcasm, and disparaging humor. Participants, mainly the directors and stage managers, used verbal humor to help actors/performers pay attention, learn, and retain directions effectively. Such humor increased the perception of immediacy behaviors and rapport. Further, some forms of verbal humor may have been more appropriately labeled figures of speech. They too were perceived as fun, amusing, or funny, and served the function of easing tensions and anxieties. Not only were tensions eased, these forms of humor served corrective functions as well. That is, they helped participants, particularly actors/performers, do their best and tow the line with regard to theatrical and idiocultural norms (Fine,

1983).

Deep and dark play and musical underscoring played minor roles in this production. Thus, they bear brief mentioning in our conclusion. Musical underscoring as an additional source of humor would be interesting to explore in future research, as would dangerous forms of humor, such as represented in

Schechner’s (2002) work.

The Infrastructure: Humorous Versus Serious

Seriousness was not found in the humor literature, although it seemed to occur as two ends of a continuum. On the one hand, it aided in concentration and focus. On the other hand, it could lead to self- downing and depression. Various situational factors contributed to seriousness, including increased task functions, increased stress and anxiety, and complexity. Additionally, various life events and factors related to the structure of the production process, such as conflicts, criticisms, and competition, contributed to stress.

One thing was certain, when seriousness was increased, humor subsided. This was an inevitable response that was even more predictable than the fact that humor would subside when stress increased.

As we have seen, humor continued to ensue in many stressful situations. Seriousness was said by some to be inferior to play, though playfulness and humor were necessary to fully carry out participants’ stage roles. Some played and joked so much that they failed to engage in the kind of work ethic established for theatre personnel. As Ted noted, theatre was seen as a serious business demanding hard work. However,

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youthful energy and enthusiasm caused some actors to have too much fun, which, according to Shawn, caused the ensemble to lose ground. Such fun-loving behavior was interpreted as a lack of discipline and maturity. But little was done to correct these infractions. Perhaps this was because the rewards of humor usage and play outweighed their costs.

Seriousness increased with such additional situational variants as increased complexity, task functions, criticisms, competition, conflicts, uncertainty, and ambiguity. Whatever demanded the actors’ focus or concentration increased seriousness. Also anxieties regarding any number of situational variants increased seriousness.

Relationally, people were said to click or have good chemistry if they shared the same ratio of humor and seriousness. This camaraderie exhibited itself differently in off stage or backstage versus on stage roles. Trust, similarity, and familiarity again helped everyone to be humorous and fun loving as well as serious with each other. Stages within the production process also led to undulating patterns between humor and seriousness. Knowing when to use which required sensitivity to situations and people. It also required a sense of balance.

Again, individual influences on and preferences for seriousness versus humorous states of being were operative. Humor was assigned to some people as a trait-like tendency because they exhibited frequent and easy use of humor. Those who were high self-monitors, or individuals high in their need to manage their impressions in front of others strategically, should have been highly humor oriented.

The Interior Spaces: What Contributed to Stress, Tensions, and/or Anxieties?

Although the Yerkes-Dodson Theory (Leary, 1995) informs us that some degree of stress is essential to perform at peak levels, too much stress robs us of our ability to perform well in front of others. As this study reveals, perhaps increased stress led to increased seriousness. Whether this occurred in reverse is ground for future study. Nonetheless, increased stress and seriousness might have been required in order to focus or concentrate on doing one’s best. However, when stress led to negative emotions, it negatively affected role performances both on and off stage. The motivation to perform well

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on stage appeared to be a catalyst to reducing stress. However, desired outcomes varied it terms of whether participants wanted to place themselves in a serious mood or an upbeat one. Uncensored seriousness could result in feelings of depression. On the other hand, overly using humor could rob one of the presence of mind necessary for doing one’s best. However, used at one’s own pace and in one’s own style, humor had the potential to help rid participants of stress and/or seriousness. Certainly, negativity is known to rob people of vital energy for doing their best (Cousins, 1979).

Typically, high degrees of stress led to a reduction in the amount of humor used, as we have seen.

However, moderate degrees of stress appeared to be managed or reduced successfully with humor. How much humor was required was unclear, since people were observed to need differing degrees and types.

Situational sensitivity was required to maintain appropriate balance.

Various situational factors contributed to participants’ stress and anxieties within this production.

As we have seen, different aspects of the structure of rehearsals increased anxieties, such as auditions, initial rehearsals, opening night, and first entrances. In addition, various roles and performances augmented stress: for example, singing roles, lead roles, and high expectations for doing well. The technical elements that were added later in the production, including lights, sound, the orchestra, sets, costumes, makeup, and special effects, disrupted people’s routines and increased their angst. Finally, some stress was audience-centered, including authority figures, divas, the technical crew, and certain unresponsive audiences.

Moreover, participants experienced stress due to life stressors as well as miscellaneous factors.

Life stressors included September 11, 2001, certain people and situations, health concerns, and a lack of time. Some performers noted such additional stress factors as ad libbing, fear of the unexpected, failing to prepare, making mistakes, and being in a first lead role.

Others’ perceptions of actors’ stressors and anxieties mostly were accurate. Added factors included egos and competition, hectic schedules, perfectionism, the show’s difficulty, poor stage habits, including upstaging, classes and tests, and the orchestra.

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It was apparent that there were many individual differences in terms of what contributed to stress and anxiety. First, being in the public eye caused performers to have above average levels of needs for approval, acceptance, and liking. There was a lot of pressure to appear attractive, confident, skilled, and talented. Thus, competition and criticisms could be an added burden. A few were especially concerned with others’ opinions, especially their teachers’ and directors’. Again, the unknown, uncertainties, ambiguities, lack of attention, and the show’s complexity all contributed to self-downing and stress.

Seriousness potentially did too.

Second, some participants became stressed by focusing on their mistakes and personal shortcomings. For some, this led to at least of modicum of depression, anger, embarrassment, and/or frustration. But most leaned on humor to break the ice, gain perspective, generate positive and supportive relationships, and fix what they could.

Third, though no one desired uncertainty, ambiguity, and the unknown, all were faced with them periodically. They undermined actors, which is why they adamantly opposed ad libbing on stage. Actors were afraid of facing unpredictable events in front of live audiences. But artists are said to need to develop tolerance for uncertainty and ambiguity because creativity requires taking risks and dealing with complexity. Further, mistakes are inevitable, whether they involve a misperception, a lack of preparation, or a happenstance occurrence.

When task leadership functions were operative, and/or disconfirming responses were encountered, anxieties often increased. These patterns occurred simultaneously with increases in seriousness. Often additional situational variants were operative at these times, like uncertainties about how to develop emotional development, characterization, and comic timing. Humor could help but did not appear to eradicate all uncertainties, especially when they were coupled with raised performance standards both from others and self, including self-criticism and more discerning feedback from others.

Unmasking, vulnerability, and masking behaviors were prevalent as well. Unmasking, or allowing oneself to be truthful, is essential to good acting. However, unmasking leads to vulnerability.

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The actor is the instrument, thus his or her physical, psychological, and spiritual selves necessarily become exposed and vulnerable. In this mix of inevitable realities, humor helped performers to maintain a positive outlook. Masking behaviors helped protect the actor in and out of role to offset criticisms and prepare for uncertainty.

In addition to various production elements, criticisms, competition, and conflicts made up the remaining elements that contributed to increased stress and anxieties among participants. Criticisms occurred both formally during note giving sessions and informally outside of rehearsals in one-on-one or group interactions with peers, directors, and staff. Actors/performers were stressed by some but not all criticisms. All appeared grateful for the presence of humor during most criticisms because humor helped to soften them, to develop trust and cooperation among cohorts, and to enable people to deal with emotionally charged, red flag messages.

Criticisms perhaps created the most stress when they referred to areas that participants had worked hard to improve and/or about which they felt they could do nothing. They appeared most receptive to criticisms when they addressed areas that recipients also felt needed improved and/or about which they felt they could do something.

Again, some actors/performers were concerned that they did not receive enough feedback during notes or otherwise to help them proceed confidently with their characters’ roles. However, it appeared that such concerns were perceptual rather than real, given certain complaints about information never being given were erroneous. Such information was given. For example, the artistic director stated what he considered to be the spine of this production and his vision of it, yet many claimed that he never did.

Still perceptions are real, and, as Graham (1995) notes, uncertainty reduction is a positive relational outcome, capable of reducing stress. This explains why individuals were motivated to reduce uncertainty.

Shawn most strongly indicated competition among student actors and staff. Mostly, performers engaged in what Lefcourt (2001) refers to as primary and secondary appraisals. That is, they appraised the amount of stress and difficulty in a task, and then how likely they were to pull it off effectively. If

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they did not think they could meet a challenge, they were likely to avoid it, given negative self-evaluation would have caused them dissonance. In order to restore their balance, they would have had to give up (as one student who refused a role early on did), adopt a new approach for success (as most students did), refuse to listen (as some did), or change their environment (Littlejohn, 1996).

Mostly, competition was subtle and harmless, such as competition in the females’ dressing room.

When faced with competition, many people ended up over emphasizing their positive attributes. But probably more often, as Ted pointed out, performers strived to be the best they could be. Thus, they competed largely with themselves.

Numerous conflicts occurred during this production. These stemmed from such situational variants as September 11, 2001, diva moments, ad libbing, misuse of weapons, personal injuries, interpersonal conflicts, and a natural tension between directors and actors. Creative collaborations during the show led to negative emotions and conflicts sometimes. Venting such feelings was critical to lessening stress levels associated with negative emotions. However, constructive methods of conflict resolution were not employed as a rule. Directors left participants on their own to resolve conflicts without modeling or instructing about techniques.

Conflicts involved social control—breaches of or deviance from social norms, gossip, and/or too much familiarity. Conflicts demanded attention and solutions. However, interestingly actors were left on their own to determine methods of coping with conflicts. Participants employed remedial concepts, such as reflexivity, conformity, remediation, and venting. Reflexivity refers to our ability to view ourselves as others view us. By in-seeing into ourselves, we are better able to experience our conflicts with enriched insights, and perhaps from there to remain more open to the whole experience and possible resolutions.

Humor, of course, aided in softening conflicts, but to a lesser degree than for competition and criticisms.

Conflicts led to more serious demeanors.

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The Interior Spaces: What Role Did Humor Play in Helping to Cope with Stress, Tensions, and/or

Anxieties?

In addition to humor as a means of reducing stress, tensions, and/or anxieties among participants in this study, various other traditional techniques were utilized to cope with stress. Again, the Yerkes-

Dodson theory (Leary, 1995) notes that a certain amount of stress is essential for peak performance. In addition, Seyle (1978) reminds us that similar physical activation can be interpreted as either keyed up and excited or nauseous and painful. The former notions refer to eustress and the latter to distress. One key way to offset anxieties is to more positively frame them cognitively. By turning negative self-talk into more positive and coping internal talk, people can make a cognitive shift away from distress toward eustress (Selye). Humor was a catalyst to such cognitive benefits. Additionally, certain physiological methods of anxiety reduction were employed, such as meditation, deep breathing, and humor. Sexual and physical forms of humor were particularly effective in bringing about a reduction in stress and anxiety, as found in this study. Finally, skills development helped actors decrease tensions. However, some of this development occurred outside of rehearsal in classes and private performance lessons.

At this point, we can mention that positive feedback, compliments, and encouragements were central in reducing tensions in this performance context. Humor and laughter are said to bring about a catharsis of tensions and pent up aggressive and sexual urges (Pollio et al., 1996). Thus, positive humor can serve multiple functions by including confirming responses, uncertainty reduction, private as well as public praises, empathy, and an integrative function.

Acceptance of diversity and preparation are other ways in which humor helped to reduce tensions. Humor allowed for freedom from personal and social constraints, and thus increased opportunities for fun, amusement, and enjoyment. Such freedom, however, calls for expanding our levels of tolerance. Acceptance of personal idiosyncracies as well as social and cultural diversity helped to expand participants’ minds and experiences. Theatre is a constructive role model for openness. Finally,

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preparation was key to reducing anxieties. Those who took their time, solicited outside help, if needed, and focused on doing their homework concerning their stage roles grew more confident.

Socializing

Humor is a humanistic form of communication. It allows people to develop healthy relational patterns, such as openness, empathy, assertiveness, responsiveness, and versatility. Humor positively affected roles both on and off stage. Humor helped to break the ice, to level the playing field, to allow people to be vulnerable and free to create, and to have fun. It helped to develop group cohesion, affiliation, integration, and camaraderie.

Various other socializing functions of humor are addressed. First, group cohesion was achieved through inside humor. Since humor aids with conformity by virtue of its appeasement function, it generates a sense of group membership. Inside humor, specifically, helped to strengthen group bonds.

Second, humor helped to level the playing field, and thereby, to reduce biases and statuses. This allowed for individual styles and creative freedom to surface. It also embraced individual and collective diversity.

Third, humor fostered communication outside of rehearsals. There were both spontaneous get-togethers and planned events. Some participated in these, and some did not. Fourth, participants were less intimidated by authority figures due to the use of humor.

Regulation of Moods and Emotions

Humor played a key role in regulating moods and emotions as well. Positive moods positively influence learning by affecting attention, retention, cognitive processing, creativity, and social behavior, for example. They helped participants concentrate, enjoy their experiences, and feel less anxiety, confusion, tension, and/or depression. Positive moods positively correlated with optimism, cheerfulness, and frequent humor usage. They further helped participants gain a more refined sense of perspective and self-efficacy for solving problems. This allowed actors/performers to successfully transform themselves from their off stage roles into their on stage roles. On the other hand, negative moods and emotions took

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away from actors’ performances unless they could deal with them constructively, which meant using them in a positive manner.

Release of Creativity and Spontaneity

Creativity and spontaneity were important attributes to possess for quality acting and performing on stage. They also helped with interpersonal relationships. Humor helped to unleash creative impulses by offering participants freedom to experiment with and explore ideas in novel and interesting ways.

They were able to use their imaginations and senses of invention.

In addition, creativity called for tolerance for ambiguity and uncertainty. However, uncertainties led to increased seriousness and some anxieties. As artists, participants existed in creative, informal, and leisure domains. Actors behaved as creative, impulsive, innovative performers struggling to be free of a rule-governed social world. These individuals, having become part of the theatre, grew to reflect the attitudes and actions of theatre as a subculture or idiosyncratic culture.

Unfortunately, theatre is a ritualized activity that ceases to allow high levels of creativity and spontaneity throughout the production process. Once a show is set, it is not to change. Lack of change and feedback were said to limit creativity in this production. Some of this may have been helped; some perhaps could not. It appeared that people varied in their perceptions.

Solace Through Rituals and Superstitions

Finally, theatre is a ritualized art form that affords us various benefits. It allows us to vicariously fulfill our fantasies, to live through a second reality, to explore novel or exotic people, places, events, and ideas. As such, the power of ritual to teach and to entertain was felt by all. This led to intense feelings of superstition as a means of ensuring that performances would proceed as planned. Superstitious humor was used in the females’ dressing room and in one-liners. It also was used in pre-show dances and dances and songs at the ends of Act I and II. Actors’ preparations for a show also sometimes became ritualized, such as through their eating and resting rituals. Second, this production included various playful rituals, including headset humor, making up amusing new lyrics to the show’s songs, writing graffiti, adopting

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fetishes or other objects for good luck, and adhering to already existent superstitious conventions of theatre. The latter conventions refer to gift giving on opening nights and saying “break a leg” to wish someone good luck. Wishing someone a misfortune as a means of good luck is superstitious.

Implications for Future Research

Theories gleaned from the various quantitative and qualitative research studies cited in this paper are quite diverse. They emanate from fields such as theatre, communication, social psychology, and education. Each field and type of study lends a particular viewpoint that has been worthwhile in interpreting results from this project. I encourage future investigators to explore additional interdisciplinary connections between play and humor in educational and theatrical contexts and beyond.

Studies such as this one promise to offer us not only theoretical but practical benefits in, for example, uncovering types and functions of humor, individual differences in perceptions and uses of humor, and patterns of humor usage in varying contexts.

Martin, Kuiper, et al. (1993) propose that future research needs to address the ways in which humor is associated with positive outcomes – positive affect, self-esteem, psychological well-being, and positive life experiences, for instance. Past practices have focused on both negative aspects of humor and the negative emotional and physiological effects and outcomes of stress. Derks (1996) notes that Allport used the term tenderness taboo to refer to this bias.

Martin, Kuiper, et al. (1993) also claim that researchers need to study the exact processes by which humor is used to cope with stress and to cultivate well-being. The direction of causality in the humor and stress equation needs clarification. Also it would be of interest to research how and why individuals employ humor in everyday contexts, not merely highly stressed individuals, but moderately stressed ones as well. What kinds of contexts add to and/or detract from humor usage would be interesting to compare and contrast.

Lefcourt et al. (1998) further note that although there still is room for speculation on the relationship between humor and stress, there is ample evidence to support the conclusion that humor can

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have positive effects on the debilitating effects of distress. However, these authors note that further research is necessary to uncover the reasons for differing observations. They themselves would choose to engage in humor research that examines both the types and targets of humor as well as the predispositions and traits of people who readily employ humor.

It is clear that too little humor is used when stress is high. It might be interesting to understand how too much humor may be used and when it is used as a response to stress and/or anxiety or otherwise.

Perhaps this would shed light on the frequency and type of humor used by people.

A positive outcome of this study is the discovery of numerous situational variants affecting humor in stressful and non-stressful situations. Some items follow that were found to contribute to participants’ anxieties: large groups, formality, conspicuousness, pretense, perceived lack of approval, authority figures, pubic criticisms, rejection, mistakes and personal shortcomings, life stress, newness, novelty, uncertainty, the unexpected, complexity, diva moments, feeling rushed, and lack of knowledge and skills. Other situational factors were discovered to contribute to participants’ sense of humor: early relational stages, self-deprecating humor, acceptance, approval, and liking, encouragement and praise, choreography and dance, boredom, few people, intimate, warm, and/or spacious environments, informality, plenty of time, humor leaders, moderate to low levels of stress, playfulness, few constraints, creativity, positive emotions, and superstitions.

Seriousness was a situational variant that should be accounted for in humor research. Is it the antithesis of humor, is it sometimes parallel with it, or does it possess a symmetrical or complementary relationship with it? Humor is said to help someone not take themselves too seriously. But what does it mean to not take oneself overly seriously? Answers to these questions and others concerning the relationships between humor and seriousness warrant further investigation. Seriousness tended to reduce humor, such as during auditions, task oriented rehearsal functions, Green Room talks, performances, the strike, life stress, competition, criticisms, and conflicts, personality orientations, and serious people and situations. Each of these areas need to be explored more fully in future research as well.

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Regarding who engages in humor and how, it is clear that humor and play are meaningful behaviors or sets of behaviors fulfilling both social and instructional purposes. Humor oriented individuals are viewed as more attractive, intelligent, creative, approachable, and friendly. Provine

(2000) proposes that perhaps people—students and teachers or directors in this case—can be taught multifarious ways in which humor can benefit them, and be guided to select ways that will help them develop a style with which they can be comfortable. Low to moderate humor oriented individuals might try receiving training in behaviors that will elicit humor and interpersonal immediacy, and thereby improve their relations and negotiating powers in terms of stress, conflicts, competitions, criticisms, and creativity. However, when individuals choose to enhance their ability to engage in humor and play, they need to do so in ways that fit their personalities and their interpersonal and/or situational needs.

Derks (1996) calls for future research that explores individual differences and types of laughter and humor. This study paves the way for future research by presenting a cursory view of potential ways in which individuals’ self-esteem, self-identity, extraversion versus introversion, external versus internal locus of control, approval needs, and moods and emotions cause them to vary in their use of humor and play. Deckers (1998) further calls for future study regarding mood and humor, since conclusions are limited to the scales and procedures used.

Touching behaviors and sexual humor were of special interest within this study. Perhaps they are the product of unique factors associated with a theatre context. Physical and verbal forms of humor should be explored more fully as well within this context. Specifically, it would be beneficial to discover insights into how people perceive what is funny or humorous, how they do this, and why they do it in addition to patterns of those humorous behaviors noted above.

Generally speaking, Deckers (1998) notes that joyful and cheerful moods relate to happiness, irritated moods relate to anger, and anxious moods relate to fear. We range from elated to dull, calm to fearful, pleasant to grouchy, aroused to quiescent. Whether we see the glass as half empty or half full depends on our mood. If humor helps us to maintain a cheerful mood, it will help to regulate our moods

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toward a more positive status. We may voluntarily seek to regulate our mood internally or to have our mood regulated for us by external factors. Overall, conclusions regarding mood and humor are viewed as currently limited because they are understood only in term of the scales and procedures used. Further study is needed, but the qualitative design of present study begins to ameliorate such quantitative problems.

The research literature calls for continued gender research, specifically in relation to humor.

Provine (2000) raises gender issues regarding humor, asserting that males predominantly are jokesters, and females the laughers and consumers of humor. In ethological terms, laughing may serve as a form of appeasement from females to lessen aggressive reactions from more dominant males. However, with females in more and more high status jobs, there should be some role reversal. Future investigations of gender issues surrounding these and other key issues of play and humor would be welcomed and useful.

Pollio et al. (1996) substantiate Provine’s findings and adds that in humorous encounters strangers typically suppress laughter whereas friends support one another by engaging in laughter. He further notes that cohesion, which is based on similarity, is essential for determining who laughs, at what, and when or where. The more cohesive a group is, the more they laugh at one another. It would be interesting to compare and contrast theatrical contexts with non-performance contexts to see what variations on a theme there are.

Humor has the potential to create what Richmond et al. (1998) refer to as immediacy. This concept is particularly relevant in educational contexts. Wanzer et al. (1999) also found that humor oriented (HO) teachers were perceived as possessing a competent-androgynous style of communication, indicating that they are more assertive of their needs and opinions and responsive to an audience’s needs and preferences than low HO teachers. Overall, this further indicates greater flexibility in communication with others. In fact, such individuals may have a greater need to create rewarding impressions in their receivers (Wanzer et al., 1995). Finally, individuals who were more assertive and responsive were perceived to engage in especially nonverbal immediacy more often. Wanzer et al. write: “Although we

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cannot demonstrate causality in this study, we speculate that being a high HO teacher enhances student learning beyond the effects of teacher responsiveness and nonverbal immediacy” (p. 59).

Wanzer et al. (1999) call for future research that uncovers particular types of humor that students find inappropriate in college classrooms, how failed humorous attempts affect learning, and how people can learn to use humor, especially if their orientation to humor is low or moderate. They further ask if other communication strategies might be used in lieu of humor but with similar results in terms of facilitating learning. Downs et al. (1988) cite Friedrich (1985) as claiming that instructional communication research needs to include more descriptive research in order to fulfill its function of prescribing effective instructional practices. Such implications probably hold a place in a theatre context, and could be followed up on readily.

This study offers little opportunity to engage in serious discourse analysis, but future research could take this specific focus. According to Fine (1983), conversational analysts and ethnomethodologists have been among the most serious investigators of humor. Knowing when to smile and when to laugh and how much of each to do is learned social behavior. Smiles range from wistful and gleeful to wicked and sardonic. Likewise, laughter ranges from a chuckle or giggle to a guffaw or side- splitting outburst. In addition, meanings are carried not only by these nonverbal means, but by a wide range of verbal and other nonverbal messages within a context. Learning how to read these is as critical as learning to read and write in general. For example, Fine notes that withholding laughter may result in a put down, ridicule, or trouble for the initiator of humor. In addition, laughing at an inappropriate moment may sabotage the humor of the initiator, making him or her look foolish. So humor is symbolic and socially regulated, and must be used with savvy as well as caution.

Various aspects of the current study may be explored in more detail in order to plumb their depths. Specifically, in dealing with complex social psychological phenomena, no one theory or theoretical approach is capable of explaining all facets of human behavior. The goal of the current paper was to maintain a simple theoretical base from communication and social psychology while exploring in

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greater detail the interrelationships between humor, play, and role development in light of stress and performance anxiety. Additional freedom to explore these multi-dimensional findings from the perspective of how theories and principles from social psychology, communications, theatre, and education overlap and intersect promises to help us collectively grow and develop in our future understanding of acting, performing, role-playing, humor, play, and stress within musical theatre contexts and beyond.

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APPENDIX A

Interview Schedule for Actors/Performers

A. Background Information:

1. Class/year?

2. Age?

3. Residence of origin and currently?

4. Transfer students or not?

5. Scholarship(s) or not?

6. Other performances here and leads or supporting roles?

7. First time with these directors or not?

8. How long have you been studying acting, singing, and/or dancing?

9. Do you mainly do musical theatre, drama, music, other entertaining?

10. What do you like best and least about musical theatre?

11. How do you rate and order yourself as an actor, singer, and/or dancer?

12. How would you describe the climate and culture of the Theatre Department?

13. What is the Department’s philosophy, and how do you feel about it?

B. In a nutshell, how did you become involved in acting, singing, and/or dancing?

C. How did you feel about the audition process and casting for this production?

1. How did you feel about your role in this production?

2. Was it the role you wanted, or were you interested in another role?

D. What kinds of things helped you put your role together acting and performance wise?

1. Direction – private meetings, rehearsals, etc.?

2. Feedback from notes and other means?

3. Humor?

4. Classes and teachers?

485

5. Private rehearsals and study?

6. Peers?

7. Socializing with others?

8. Confidence boosters?

9. Acting and performance techniques, exercises, etc.?

10. Memorizing lines?

11. Production elements, such as costumes, makeup, the orchestra?

12. How close your role was to yourself?

13. Departmental culture or ethics?

14. How well you liked the show?

15. Stage managers and/or other crew?

E. What kinds of things hindered you from putting your role together acting and performance wise?

1. Performance anxiety, including thoughts, feelings, actions, reactions?

2. Life stress?

3. Competition?

4. Criticism?

5. Conflicts within the production and/or with theatre in general?

6. Relationships with directors, production staff, and peers?

7. The amount and kind of structure during the production process?

8. The vision of the production?

9. Did the researcher get in the way of others or you?

F. How did you feel about the rehearsals themselves?

1. What things helped or hindered you inside or outside of rehearsals?

2. The structure, starting and stopping of run-throughs?

486

3. Pace, use of time?

4. Attitudes?

5. Etiquette?

6. Other expectations?

G. What is your view of art and an artist?

H. What is your idea of excellence in acting and performing?

1. How did you feel about your ability to fulfill your role?

2. How do you think others felt about your ability to fulfill your role?

3. What would you do differently with your role, if anything?

I. What did you like most and least about this production overall?

J. Is there anything else you think is pertinent to tell me, which I have not asked you?

K. May I call on you again, if I need further information or clarification from you?

487

APPENDIX B

Interview Schedule for Stage Managers

A. Biographical information:

1. Class/year?

2. Age?

3. Residence of origin and currently?

4. Transfer students or not?

5. Scholarship(s) or not?

6. Other performances here and leads or supporting roles?

7. First time with these directors or not?

8. How long have you been studying acting, singing, and/or dancing?

9. Do you mainly do musical theatre, drama, music, other entertaining?

10. What do you like best and least about musical theatre?

11. How do you rate and order yourself as an actor, singer, and/or dancer?

12. How would you describe the climate and culture of the Theatre Department?

13. What is the Department’s philosophy, and how do you feel about it?

B. What were your responsibilities as a stage manager?

C. What were your perceptions of your role in this production?

D. How well do you think the technical staff got along with each other?

1. How well do you think the actors got along together?

2. How well do you think the actors and technical staff got along together?

E. How well do you think the production staff got along with each other?

F. Who was best and worst to work with on this production?

G. What did you perceive to help actors put together their acting and performance roles?

1. Direction – private meetings, rehearsals, etc.?

488

2. Feedback from notes and other means?

3. Humor?

4. Classes and teachers?

5. Private rehearsals and study?

6. Peers?

7. Socializing with others?

8. Confidence boosters?

9. Acting and performance techniques, exercises, etc.?

10. Memorizing lines?

11. Production elements, such as costumes, makeup, the orchestra?

12. How close your role was to yourself?

13. Departmental culture or ethics?

14. How well you liked the show?

15. Stage managers and/or other crew?

H. What did you perceive to hinder actors in putting together their acting and performance roles?

1. Performance anxiety, including thoughts, feelings, actions, reactions?

2. Life stress?

3. Competition?

4. Criticism?

5. Conflicts within the production and/or with theatre in general?

6. Relationships with directors, production staff, and peers?

7. The amount and kind of structure during the production process?

8. The vision of the production?

I. Did the researcher get in the way of others or you?

489

J. What is your view of art and an artist?

K. Is there anything else you think is pertinent to tell me, which I have not asked?

L. May I call on you again, if I need further information or clarification from you?

490

APPENDIX C

Interview Schedule for Artistic and Musical Directors

Both directors were asked the following biographical questions.

1. Residence of origin and currently?

2. Other performances directed here or elsewhere?

3. First time working with same directors or others or not?

4. Length of time involved in directing?

5. Do you mainly do musical theatre, drama, voice, music, other entertaining?

6. What do you like best and least about musical theatre?

7. How would you describe the climate and culture of the Theatre Department?

8. What is the Department’s philosophy, and how do you feel about it?

Since both directors were interviewed late in the interviewing phase of this project, the following questions were devised based on not only field observations, but participants’ feedback as well.

Artistic Director:

1. Why was this production so special for you?

2. How did you feel about your Assistant Director and the Musical Director for this production?

3. What was the impetus for doing this particular production?

4. What was your vision for this production?

5. What did you hope to accomplish with the music, staging, and technical elements of this

production?

6. What is your philosophy of direction?

7. What were your goals for this production?

8. What did you think of each actor’s performance in this production?

9. What did you perceive to help actors put together their acting and performing roles?

10. What did you perceive to hinder actors in putting together their acting and

491

11. performing roles?

Musical Director:

1. How did you feel about the Artistic Director and other members of this

2. production?

3. Who was adept at reading music, and who was not?

4. Could you tell me more about what members of this production’s cast are majors

5. in what programs within this Department?

6. What were your goals for this production?

7. What were your perceptions of the orchestra, ad libbing, and the structure of rehearsals?

8. What did you think of each actor’s performance in this production?

9. What did you perceive to help actors in putting together their acting and performing roles?

10. What did you perceive to hinder actors in putting together their acting and performing roles?

Finally, both directors were asked the following questions.

1. Did the researcher get in the way of others or you?

2. What is your view of art and an artist?

3. What did you like more and least about this production overall?

4. Is there anything else you think is pertinent to tell me, which I have not asked you?

5. May I call on you again, if I need further information or clarification from you?

492