Actor Caitlin Morris
It strikes me as somehow fitting that my first ever blog is being written in the midst of my portrayal of a 17-year-old girl. I have a cousin who is turning 17 this year and I am pretty certain that cyber-journaling consumes most of her free time. Yet somehow I, a mere five years her senior, have never put fingers to keyboard in this fashion. If this is not an indication of the fervent progression of the modern age, and some sort of symbolic tribute to the themes that Carter W. Lewis drew from to create this show, Evie’s Waltz, I don’t know what is.
The success of opening was quite a relief, seeing as how 5 days prior, Evie seemed to be farther away than ever, sprinting away from me in her mischievously evasive way, determined to widen the gap.
During the month of rehearsal, she had maintained a safe distance, always a step ahead of me, the desperate actor. At moments, such as the rehearsal where I discovered her physical life and was allowed a brief glimpse into her distraught psyche, I felt her just within reach. Other nights however, such as the rehearsal that I spent attempting to tap into her dangerous unpredictability, she would break away. Throughout the process, I found myself connecting with her and then somehow letting her slip from my grasp.
To be fair, tapping into a 17-year-old self was not the biggest obstacle. I remember the sensation of being a teenager vividly: the seemingly limitless possibilities, the bizarre hormonal roller coaster, the paradox between a child-self and an adult-self, having just enough responsibility, feeling free and vivacious but also feeling patronized and undervalued. In fact, the chance to explore these extremes, this naively blissful existence was amazing. Yet despite my connection and accessibility to these qualities, Evie remained a mystery.
The biggest challenge to approaching this role was discovering her layers, never permitting myself to settle too for just one emotional state, setting my personal sensitivity aside long enough to lash out mercilessly, violently. Ed Vaughan, the director, kept having to remind me how I differ from her. I am far more inclined towards passivity. I always attempt to smooth things over to make the people around me happy and comfortable. Evie, on the other hand, relishes the opportunity to shake things up. She is confrontational and sassy. I am the flight, Evie is the fight. Finding a way to adopt these tendencies and set aside my own sentiments and sympathy was the major obstacle.
For some reason, the voices that Carter writes for his characters make a great deal of sense to me. Whether or not I agree with their comments, attitudes or behaviors, their syntax rings true for me. So finding Evie’s voice, her speech pattern, the mapping out of her thoughts came relatively easily. Involuntarily dispersing “like” and “ya know” throughout my phrases I am constantly being scolded by my grandmother for my verbal gymnastics. But now, much to her chagrin, I am exploiting those habits!
In searching for Evie’s physicality, I found myself relying on a couple basic concepts. Our movement coach, Melinda Murphy, suggested that I use the confliction of Evie’s emotions to establish the groundwork for her character. Grief sends energy down the front of the body; fear, down the back; anger, up the back. Embracing the intersection of these emotional states was a key element in forming her physical life.
Secondly, Evie appears onstage bearing the weight of the truth about Danny and the actual events of the day. She must mentally and emotionally deny and cover these secrets throughout much of the show, so I opted for a physical outlet for these burdens: she fidgets. Through restless leg syndrome, nail-biting and hair-twirling, she keeps her truths covered up.
Caitlin Morris in CATCO's "Evie's Waltz." Photo by David Alkire
The final component of the equation was addressing her gestures. Because Evie is a unique, peculiar, rebellious, social outcast, it seemed only fitting that her gestures would mirror that. I began playing with asymmetrical and unexpected hand movements pretty early on in the process.
In order to prep for performance, I do a breath warm-up (breath is super essential in this show because of the emotional highs and lows), followed by vocal and physical exercises. Then I walk through the “moment before” (the conversation that Danny and I are having prior to my entrance). I waltz a bit, mentally plot out my plan for the evening, and do a little imagery work to insure that Danny will be clear and present in the play. After the show, I just have to remember to keep breathing deeply and slowly. Once the shakes die down, I try to just let it go. I allow some laughter and joy to flood back in and then I recharge for the next night.
–Caitlin Morris, Actor
Caitlin Morris, Mandy Fox, and Ralph Scott in CATCO's "Evie's Waltz." Photo by David Alkire
