Mastering Theatre Direction: Declan Donnellan’s The Actor and the Space Offers Practical Tools and Creative Insights for Actors and Directors

As well as being in awe of Shakespeare, I’m a huge fan of Declan Donnellan’s previous book, The Actor and the Target; so much so that when I turned to the first chapter of his follow-up, The Actor and the Space, and read the passage “The Actor and the Target followed Irina and Alex tackling Romeo and Juliet. And now, twenty years on, they find themselves rehearsing Macbeth,” I actually got goosebumps.

Just one of many reasons for this reaction: I still recall – could virtually quote – the example from the first book on how the significance of a hairbrush to Juliet changes entirely once she’s spent the night with Romeo. Beforehand, it is (amongst other things) a pleasant symbol of her relationship to the Nurse – herself essentially a surrogate mother to the girl – who uses it to brush Juliet’s hair. Afterwards, it represents the ‘old’ world in which Juliet was still a child, and a reminder that those around her will still expect her to act like one.

One of the most beautiful things about this observation (and many others) is that it still allows plenty of room for creativity and the actor’s instincts. Juliet might just as well grab the brush and throw it out of the window as she might pick it up and tenderly place it in a drawer of keepsakes: what the brush symbolises might remain the same; how Juliet reacts to that symbol depends on each individual Juliet.

I used elements of this and other approaches when I directed a production of Barrie Keeffe’s Sus, which garnered some of the best reviews I’ve ever seen, never mind received. Much as I can’t take all the credit for this, nor can I place all of the praise at Declan Donnellan’s door – I had an incredible cast and crew, an ideal venue, and help from too many people to mention – but his advice certainly played a significant part in the production’s success.

Sometimes, you can read a book about the theatre and feel enthused, bubbling with ideas and approaches that make you want to get into the rehearsal room and try them out immediately. The problem is, all too often, once you’re there, these ideas somehow seem to evaporate without making any significant difference to the work. What makes Donnellan’s advice stand out is that it both enthuses, and also gives you some eminently usable and effective tools you can put into practice – and see the positive results – immediately.

How does Donnellan manage to encourage this alchemy?

There’s a clue in this passage from chapter two:

“When actors struggle in rehearsal, they need to plug themselves into their character’s space . . . [they] sometimes plunge past this first crucial step and instead valiantly throw themselves into ‘acting’, meaning each word sincerely, desperately, deeply, indicating the slightest nuance and pouring energy into the performance. They can exhaust themselves (and their audience), and yet it still feels dead . . .

“The problem is [they] haven’t done the imaginative work to create a new and different space for the character . . . And this is what all the advice in this book comes down to. It’s all about plugging into the space.”

I find that the vast majority of books about any given art form tend to fall into one of two categories: those that enthuse but don’t offer much by way of practical help, and those that offer practical help but don’t do much to enthuse. Like its predecessor, The Actor and the Space is one of those very, very rare magical beasts that does both.

How is it that advice that can be written down so simply, without any need for esoteric jargon, and addressing something so ephemeral it is almost ghostly, can be of such practical use? There is a further clue in this, from chapter three:

“We have structured this book around a series of keys. These have helped us solve problems in rehearsals. The important thing about keys is that they are not sacred principles. They are only tools.”

The advice works in part because it is based on hard-won practical experience. It isn’t theoretical, and doesn’t rely on theory. It isn’t abstracted from acting as an art; rather, it is collected wisdom from dealing with acting as a craft.

It’s over a decade since I last directed a theatre production, longer still since I last acted; reading this book has made me feel like I could walk into a rehearsal room tomorrow and feel well-armed.

For those more involved – or more interested – in acting and directing, they wouldn’t go far wrong if they put The Actor and the Target at the top of their reading list, The Actor and the Space second, and leave third spot free, just in case the series one day becomes a trilogy.

To quote again from this wonderful book’s introduction, “The book’s aim is to offer a different position from which to view acting and theatre.” It’s a bold statement, but one that Donnellan manages with wisdom, generosity and grace.

Now you’ll have to excuse me, as, if I can’t find an English-language edition of Donnellan Sobre Shakespeare, I’m going to have to become bilingual enough to be able to read it in Spanish.