On Gigging…

I must admit, that when the muse strikes him, Pasha has some of the best words of wisdom to ponder:

 

Saturday, I tried a couple of experiments vis-à-vis application of theory and principles of gigging. I wanted to write down what we did in hopes that the information might contain some germ of how I do what I do. Compare and contrast with what you do; do you use similar approaches, or very different? What methods do you use when you’re starting/continuing/ending a gig?

 

It’s rambly.

 

1. Pure improv. R. approached and I thought, let’s try the ol’ there are no rules improv with rules form. “Where is the goat!?” I asked. R. 

hemmed for a moment then announced the goat was with the Queen. She grabbed a customer to verify that, the customer then embellished the tale. It wasn’t a smashing success in that no one really stopped to listen to it, which means the improv was just… an exercise. Up to the point the customer started making stuff up. Then it felt like a gig. 

Do people really do this all day long? Make crap up on the spot to surprise the other performers? That’s tedious and hardly something that can be expected from most people, because they’re “not fast enough to make things up.”

 

2. Short form interaction. I was paying close attention to the processes I used to glide into gigs. With a few exceptions of meet and greet type gigs, all the short and long form gigs were with customers. 

Every single gig was a conversation, for the most part. Short conversations tended to be about the weather (“are you hot?” I’m wearing wool. Of course I’m hot. But see notes about “beginning conversations,” below.) Another one I do often is when I see customers with horned helmets. I’ll find unrelated customers and ask them, “know you what a cuckold is?” They say no. “It’s a man whose wife is having relations with everyone but him. He is said to `wear the horns.’” I point at the guy in the horned helmet. The customers laugh. “Most men would not do, in sooth, like that one, but now you know.”

 

3. Long form interaction. The typical gig, in the sense of the one most often had, was extended 5-15 minutes of conversation, in period, about history and such, relayed in some rather amusing manners.

 

4. “Nay, not.” As we all know, this is an incorrect phrase by itself. 

It doesn’t make sense. Twice, customers have asked me, out of the blue, after hearing someone else say it, “What does this mean? It doesn’t make sense.” Weird. Say, “nay, not in this life.” Or something. The phrase doesn’t stand alone. When the customers wonder WTF you mean, that means it’s not just a snob problem, but you all need to simply stop saying “nay not” by itself as if it were period. 

It’s not. It sounds dumb.

 

So, here were the nuts and bolts of the methods of initiating the gig:

a) Stationary customers were always conferring. In these situations, the costumed actor can lean in and listen, many times without the customers noticing for several long seconds. Once they discover the actor, most will stop their conversation. If I had a tidbit of conversation, I might encourage them further: “You were speaking of __________?” About half of these types of gigs turn into what-show-do- you-recommend or where-is-the-joust.

 

b) Moving customers. With the exception of a weather-related jest made to a customer (“Madame, thou shouldst not follow this woman, ere she takes you into the great blazing eyeball of the sun. Finds she shade? 

Nay, tis not so.”), there were almost no initiation of gigs with moving customers.

 

Approach:

We approached people sitting at tables in the shade, and people standing in semi-circles in the shade. Additionally, we availed ourselves of customers with umbrellas for shade, or conversed briefly in the sun.

 

Table approaches meant that we had to initiate the contact by selecting a likely looking group, then walking up to the table. We stood at the open end of the table, usually. In one instance, I sat down at the table in the middle next to one of the three ladies, so I was facing two more. [I later saw them after they had just left the joust, so I met them in the street and they stopped to talk to me about their experience and give goodbyes. This is what I call a “doubletap” gig, that is, you had your initial gig, then when you see them again, they’re old friends now and you may even know their names to greet them; the gig looks different and feels different.]

 

Specific Gigs:

They were mostly long in time. I felt guilty every time I spent longer than five minutes with a customer.

 

In one instance, a woman wandered up who knew the Captain of the Guard, and she began conversing with myself and 3 other customers in the shade. I used the subject of bear baiting as an interesting topic to generate conversation. The customers suggested we combine bear baiting with the joust, and I enthusiastically “yes, anded” that proposition. The three customers met with their party and left, and the woman introduced herself and began asking questions (revealing some knowledge of the behind-the-scenes working at fair). Who was I? 

Did I know the queen? Did I follow the queen around? I was married? 

What did I do for a living? Did I dance? And so on. Her comment, said with only a trace of wistfulness, was that her rich husband was a baker who’d left her for a younger woman: “He left me to have his bread rise with another woman.”

 

A teenager on crutches and her mother encountered us late in the day. 

We inquired about the foot and crutches (painful) as the introduction into the conversation. They asked us about the queen–they wanted to see the entrance for a school project. They’d missed that, but we advised them to find the queen in the fair. We left them and began a gig with another actor which failed, and from which the crutches girl and mom had caught up with us, and we were next to the queen’s tea. 

E___ took the girl and mother up to the table of noble women and introduced them all, as well as the Earl of Warwick (Stacy). Stacy took on the task of getting the girl to meet the queen (and presumably have her picture taken). We moved on to the maypole to watch a scholar’s prize, after which the crutches girl and mother had caught up with us again. We offered to tell them all the gossip, if they wished, and walked with them to court, describing the courtiers we met on the way (names, what they did, some gossip). At court, I would point people out and describe what I knew, such as Sussex being the Dudley’s worst enemy, and that he’d hanged 500 Catholic Rebels in the Northern Earl’s Rebellion. Sussex at that moment decided to walk to the road and by us, so we reverenced him, then pointed to his receding

back: “Didst thou seest the sneer on his face? A powerful man. 500 rebels.” “He looks scary!” the mom said. I like that the actor playing Sussex has a great face for it, he does look rough. Leaving court, we ran into Catherine Grey, and after she passed us by, I described who she was: “In line for the throne. Forbidden to marry by royal decree, if she does, it’ll be death for sure.” They wanted a picture. In retrospect, I should have set up conversation– “you should ask her about her prospects for marrying.” I had to leave the gig at that point due to an appointment.

 

Their comment to us: “You must be very busy, are we keeping you from your work?” Perception: The actors all have something to do, talking to customers isn’t part of that work.

 

We came upon teen girls at a table, who were conversing about cleavage, to their embarrassment when we caught the tail end of the conversation. We proceeded to ask what women spoke of when men weren’t present, and they told us it was a secret, which would be revealed if they spoke of it. We then made as if we were leaving, then had a customer lady walk to the table and we “snuck” behind her, to overhear the conversation. They said they liked men with hats like ours, and big pants. We “snuck” away, then returned, saying “we have returned,” 

and pretending to know nothing of the conversation.

 

Conversational Elizabethan.

Gigs depend on the level of interest in one of the parties to keep the conversation flowing. As in other situations, asking people questions about their likes and interests and showing interest in that is a good way to get a gig going. Once the customer feels at ease, they will invariably indulge in their curiosity and ask you a question about what they’re curious about. Useful questions:

“What do you for your living?”

“Art plighted in thy troth?” (you married?) “What knowest thou this day?” (what do you know?) “Hearest thou gossip, sir?” (If they know none, you must be prepared with some gossip of your own.) “Know you that (man / woman )over there?” (indicate a customer. Then you tell them some hideous rumor about the man. It’s better if you do not know him/her.)

 

Endowments

Using the system of endowments — you endow a character on a customer– is rife with pleasing gigs. Your introduction can be greeting them by name and occupation, then turning to the persons they’re with and asking them to confirm what you just said. They will. “Thou! I know thee, William Dafoe! Thou didst promise to thatch my roof, but nary a thatch has been laid. What are your reasons? I hear that you spend all your time with a lady of ill repute! Does he do this?” When you make your offer, realize you’re going to bear the brunt of giving options for them to yes or no.