Bringing a New Field to Classical Theatre: Intimacy Direction in BST’s “The Changeling”

Although I have always loved the language and stories of William Shakespeare, I often find myself disillusioned with classical theatre as an actor and a woman. Contemporary and new plays face the same struggles for diverse representation and responsibility when dealing with sensitive topics, but classical productions, with scripts “of their time,” are especially susceptible to sidestepping progress because “this is how it’s always been.” Thankfully, that excuse carries less and less weight in 2018, and practices such as color conscious and cross-gender casting are slowly becoming more mainstream (with a long way still to go). With gendered and sexual violence built into many classical texts, it’s especially important for these companies to embrace another culture change in the theatre industry: Intimacy Direction.

When I first heard of Intimacy Direction as an art form almost three years ago, a rush of theatre memories sprung into my mind, both from my own life and from stories I’ve heard, where having an Intimacy Director or Choreographer in place could have made my artistic experience safer. I contacted Intimacy Directors International (IDI) and have been training and practicing under their model ever since, using the IDI Pillars as the foundation of my work. As an Intimacy Choreographer, I am both an advocate for actors telling intimate stories and a visual storyteller, collaborating with the director to clarify their vision and bring it to life. Unlike “how it’s always been,” communication and consent are key components of this process, bringing structure and specificity to all parties, so we can explore these fascinating and vulnerable relationships truthfully, while maintaining a professional and safe rehearsal environment. There are definitely growing pains when working in a developing field, but the most rewarding part has definitely been the way actors have opened up to me after an Intimacy rehearsal, sharing experiences they’ve had in the past ranging from the abusive and dangerous to uncomfortable and clumsy (“so, now you kiss…”), when they wished they could have had someone like me in the room, but never knew that was an option.

The Brave Spirits Rep marks my first time working as an Intimacy Choreographer with classical texts, and has had me thinking over my complicated relationship with classical theatre in general. Although I have acted in many Shakespeare productions, I have never actually worked with a woman director on any of them, and although these experiences were positive for me in many ways, I am rarely satisfied as a feminist. This time around, I felt very fortunate to work with Charlene V. Smith, who was as focused as I was on the balancing act of honoring Beatrice Joanna’s story without reverting to shock value.

As Charlene outlines in her blog post, productions of The Changeling often argue that Beatrice consents to or even deserves the assault by DeFlores. The reflex to value DeFlores’ experience over Beatrice’s is sadly unsurprising. Beatrice is not a “perfect victim,” but we should never use that excuse to justify DeFlores’ actions. The interpretation that makes me most furious is that Beatrice initially resists, but “eventually” consents. Consent is ongoing, consent is enthusiastic, and consent is not submission after all of your attempts to say no were ignored. Even as she struggles for agency in the patriarchal world she lives in, Charlene’s vision grants Beatrice ownership of her own trauma. Even if  Beatrice doesn’t have an ally to believe her within her world, the audience has to.

As theatre artists, we are equally responsible for the messages in our storytelling as the way we run our rehearsals, and Intimacy Choreographers bring nuance and specificity to both. In addition to specifying the movement of this sequence and facilitating communication between the performers in The Changeling, I took time to review the final IDI Pillar, Closure, with actors Danielle Scott and Musa Gurnis. Closure is a personal moment of acknowledgement that signifies the ending of the work, similar to a cool down after a physical work out. This can be a breathing series, a mantra, a high five between scene partners, or another ritual that separates actor from character. Exploring uncomfortable subject matter can be some of the most gratifying theatre when you are driven to shed light on those topics, but maintaining a self-care routine is a crucial step to keep up with it.

I am grateful to Charlene and the company of the Rep for bringing me on board and helping the field of Intimacy Direction grow within our community. I have learned a lot about my own evolving choreography process, and I am more determined to bust down barriers in theatre for positive change from any . Whether the script is brand new or hundreds of years old, artists deserve to be empowered and safe, and I am empowered to help them get there.

— Emily Sucher, Intimacy Choreographer