I've experienced the truth of this statement in my days at Navy Pier this month. I'm playing a little girl named Milliveca...
And I go out on "the floor" - the South Dock - with two incredible physical actors who play human marionettes. They have elastic around their wrists and attached to their back; the other end of the elastic is attached to two wooden crosses that I carry behind them. The illusion is that I'm their puppetmaster.
We reach our stage - a two-level scaffold - and they crumple on the lower level while I detach their "travel strings" and attach their "stage strings," the stage strings being elastic that is attached to wooden crosses at the top of the scaffold.
I detach and reattach strings in silence. And crowds of people stop to watch. 50 - 75 people at the beginning and the end of every show. They stop to watch because I am DOING something. And struggling - the wind is blowing and wig hair blows into my mouth and across my eyes, I have a straw purse that doesn't stay up on my shoulder, the stage is tiny. But the struggle makes the action even more fascinating. When it is more difficult, people, especially children, stay for the entire changing-of-the-strings.
It is a beautiful reminder that we, as actors, are enough. Our commitment and concentration to the characters (puppetmaster and puppets) and the task at hand (changing of strings) is fascinating. And there is meaning generated for the audience - a story! - without any words or music or spectacle.
