Listen to a wolf howls in a clear nighttime wilderness, and you know instantly that the sound is heartfelt. It rings pure and true and evokes chills. That wolf, of course, is not capable of being self-conscious about the sound he is making. He is at one with nature – and his howl provides a valuable object lesson for actors.
Fred H. Harrington, Professor of Ethology at Mount Saint Vincent University in Nova Scotia, observes: “ The center of a wolf's universe is its pack, and howling is the glue that keeps the pack together. Some have speculated that howling strengthens the social bonds between pack-mates; the pack that howls together, stays together.” (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/wolves/howl.html)
So, too, is it with the human pack, or tribe. The tribe that howls together stays together. The roots of acting are primitive and shamanistic. Shamans spoke with their heart. It was that way seven thousand years ago, and the best acting is still like that today. When you act, you are stepping into a circle in the dirt and calling the tribe together. They gather around you for a specific purpose – to celebrate life. This is why Artonin Artaud famously observed: “Actors are athletes of the heart.”
We humans are at the top of the food chain by virtue of our thinking brain. We are the only animal that can know something is bad for him and still do it. Lower forms of animal life operate purely on instinct. But our brain is a mixed blessing. It cannot only calculate the distance to the moon, it can actually block what we feel. It can cause us to distrust ourselves. If an actor needs to howl and connect with the pack on a primal level, her brain can say, in effect, “No! That howl will sound foolish.” This is why acting is an art and a craft. We must act with our heart while maintaining control of the theatrical form. An audience member empathizes only with emotion. He will literally put up with thinking in order to get to the emotion – the howl.
When we were primitives, roaming the savannahs and worrying about saber-toothed tigers, our very survival was dependent upon acting upon impulse. You would, like a wolf, put your nose to the air and detect perhaps too much stillness – and then flee to the cave. No thought involved, just a “feeling”, a “hunch”. In today’s world, we no longer have to act on such hunches and, indeed, are counseled against doing so. “Don’t leap to conclusions”, we are taught as children. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” We are urged to stop and consider things, to avoid impatience. If a person is considered too emotional, that is often considered to be a social failing. “Get a hold on yourself!” is the advice.
Actors are special people, in my view. It is our obligation and job to retain the ability to howl, to speak with our heart. Theatre is not a discussion group, and actors are not professors. We are one with the tribe, joined in our humanity and ability to empathize. We are still trying to learn how to use our brains, how to balance feelings with thinking. Acting is a hug, not a debate. And celebrity and stardom have nothing whatever to do with it.
The next time you take on a role, remember the howl of the wolf. The feeling and impetus for acting is not centered in your brain, but in your heart.
