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Theatre Topics, Volume 5, Number 2, September 1995, pp. 181-201 (Article)

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DOI: 10.1353/tt.2010.0011

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Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics:

An Acting Technique for Today
Jane Baldwin
The American theatre has undergone radical changes in its repertory and
staging practices in the last thirty-five years. As a result, actors are called upon
to display a multiplicity of skills that, sadly, many do not possess. For, with a
few notable exceptions, American actor training has not kept pace with the
needs of contemporary theatre. Psychological realism in the form of the Method
retains its iron grip.

In New York, which maintains its reputation as the U.S. center for theatre
training, the Method is the primary tool of instruction. Universities and conservatories, it is true, frequently augment their acting programs with movement and speech, but these courses are too often taught in isolation, their content separated from that of the acting classes. Other acting techniques, other
acting traditions, are not widely explored.
One such alternative tradition, Theatrical Biomechanics, was introduced

to American theatre practitioners in June of 1993. Master teachers Gennadi

Bogdanov and Nikolai Karpov were invited to teach Vsevolod Meyerhold's
system in its authentic form at an institute hosted by Tufts University.1 Subsequently, Bogdanov spent several weeks in New York training the actors of the
Phoenix Ensemble in preparation for a production in the Biomechanical style
directed by Ivan Popovski. This article discusses the usefulness of Biomechanics for the American actor. It describes and assesses the training at the institute, including student reaction, and provides a brief depiction of the application of the technique to production.
The Revival of Theatrical Biomechanics in Russia

The revolutionary director Vsevolod Meyerhold (1874-1940) developed

Theatrical Biomechanics, which is both an acting technique and a production
style, as an antidote to his former mentor Stanislavsky's psychological realism. Biomechanical experimentation was cut short in the 1930s by Stalin's condemnation of all forms of art except socialist realism. The Communist

181

182 Jane Baldwin

Meyerhold found himself in the incongruous position of having his art con-

demned as "bourgeois" and "alien to Soviet art" by the state Committee on the
Arts (Rudnitsky 540). By 1938, having completely fallen from favor with the
regime, the victim of a vicious smear campaign, Meyerhold had lost his theatre. Two years later he was dead, shot in prison on February 2, 1940, after a
secret trial (Chentalinski 96).2 A victim of the political corruption and egre-

gious human rights violations of the Stalinist era, he had been tortured to extract a false confession (Chentalinski 75). With his death, Meyerhold became a

non-person in the Soviet Union, his writings and practices outlawed.

In the West, acting teachers periodically attempted to resurrect Theatrical

Biomechanics as a methodology. For years, their sources consisted of a few

sketchy writings, plus two dozen photos of an actor performing a Meyerhold
tude brought back to the U.S. by Lee Strasberg in 1934. However, even as archival material slowly became more available to Western scholars, missing was
a living link to the work. Thus the results of these Western attempts were inaccurate, unsatisfactory, and ultimately unsuccessful. The practice of Theatrical
Biomechanics was presumed to have vanished from the theatre.
Yet in 1972, more than thirty years after Meyerhold's death, the figure in
the photographs, Nikolai Kustov, emerged from the theatrical underground to
which he had been relegated. Valentin Pluchek, director of the Moscow The-

atre of Satire, had taken the unprecedented step of inviting Kustov, a former
actor/teacher in Meyerhold's company, to train a select group of eight young
actors in Theatrical Biomechanics.3

Until his death three and a half years later, Kustov worked with the group,

training them in the almost forgotten and still forbidden art of Biomechanics.
Perhaps his most avid student was Gennadi Bogdanov, newly engaged by the
Theatre of Satire after his graduation from GITIS, Russia's leading drama school.
Biomechanics was a revelation to Bogdanov, who had been trained in the
state-sanctioned Stanislavsky System. Bogdanov recalls Kustovthen in his

sixties, ailing and aged beyond his yearsas a brilliant teacher. No longer able
to sustain the pace of the physical work, Kustov sat most of the time, chain
smoking, observing the students closely, only getting up to show the form of
the exercises, the nuances and subtleties.

In 1974, Nikolai Karpov began auditing the class, absorbing the technique
but unable to participate since he was not a member of the Theatre of Satire.
Having completed his studies at the Shchepkin State Institute of Theatre Arts,

Karpov was then a graduate student and teaching assistant at GITIS, stage
movement and combat his primary interests. Sharing a common vision of the
theatre, Bogdanov and Karpov found themselves drawn to each other.

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 183

After Kustov's death, their career paths diverged. Bogdanov remained at

the Theatre of Satire where, in addition to playing in the mainstage productions, he and the group of Kustov-trained actors began developing a Biomechanical production of Waiting for Godot, in which Bogdanov played Lucky. It
would take a decade and a radically-changed political climate before the production would reach the public.

Karpov became an instructor in the Movement Department at GITIS where,

disturbed by hidebound traditions, he pushed for change, alienating many of
his colleagues. Relationships deteriorated, and Karpov moved to the Directing

A rare 1926 photo of Meyerhold's students performing the etude, "Shooting from the Bow."
From left to right: Z. P. Zlobin, L. N. Sverdlin, Meyerhold's daughter Irina, and R. M. Genena.
Photo: A. A. Temeren, used by permission of the owner, Gennadi Bogdanov.

Department. Undeterred, Karpov continued to advocate reform, particularly

the introduction of Biomechanics. Or perhaps it would be more correct to say
Biomechanics's reintroduction, since the school had been founded under the aus-

pices of Meyerhold. Eventually, it became obvious that the pedagogical changes

Karpov wanted were not going to be implemented. Frustrated, he left for Syria
in the early 1980s to teach in the Damascus Theatre School.

During Karpov's absence, Russia began to undergo the political upheaval

whose repercussions would affect every aspect of life. GITIS was not immune.

184 Jane Baldwin

Politics had always driven the institute's curriculum and continued to do so.
The door was cautiously opened to reform, the curriculum reexamined. Nikolai

Karpov was invited to return as Chairman of the Movement Department.

Thus Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics began to infiltrate the school's
curriculum. Bogdanov was brought in, at first to teach one course, which turned
into two; and now Biomechanics is a viable and significant part of the acting

and directing program at GITIS (recently renamed the Russian Academy of

Theatre Arts). The two men are very proud of their accomplishment, stating,
"Now we can say that truly through tremendous difficulties, in our theatrical
academy, only ours, we have set an example. We have added something new

which, of course, is old, but had been forgotten a long time ago" (personal
interview).

There is a certain irony that the resurgence of Biomechanics at GITIS could

only be realized through the collapse of Communism. Although Meyerhold

began formulating his ideas of a movement-based acting system as early as
1905, the development of Theatrical Biomechanics was closely linked to the
aims of the evolving Communist culture. Meyerhold viewed the actor as another worker in the system devoted to building the new society.
In their approach to teaching Theatrical Biomechanics, Bogdanov and

Karpov have nearly eliminated the system's Communist ideology. Meyerhold's

insistence on strong ensemble was motivated by political as well as aesthetic
beliefs. Yet unconscious vestiges of this ideology remain in Bogdanov's and

Karpov's teaching, particularly in their vocabulary. For instance, they occasionally reprimanded students at the Tufts institute for self-indulgence, for
concentrating on their individuality to the detriment of the group.
It should be noted that GITIS is the only theatre institute in Russia offer-

ing Biomechanics, since, at this time, Bogdanov is the only qualified instructor. As Karpov reminds us: "Everything else is based on theoretical research"
(personal interview).
The Institute in Theatrical Biomechanics at Tufts4

Eight students of diverse ages and backgrounds participated in the

four-week program. Their common bond was an interest in alternative training and developing fresh techniques, though their specific aims differed. All
were conscious of the historical implications of the Tufts institute. They ranged

in age from their early twenties to late forties: among them were theatre instructors, actors, directors, and a dancer/choreographer. A number of the students crossed disciplines, e.g., some of the teachers were actors or directors.

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 185

Despite the fact that their movement training varied from strong to almost
non-existent, everyone found the classes equally arduous, not least the professional dancer, Llory Wilson. She discovered, somewhat to her chagrin, that it
was "as much a challenge for me as for anyone else" (personal interview).
Since Bogdanov and Karpov speak only the most rudimentary English,

translators were essential. The institute was fortunate in obtaining the services
of two bilingual actressesone American, who had trained previously with
the teachers in Europe (Kathryn Mederos), and one Russian (Katya Chaika)

both of whom participated in the classes. Facilitating the process, Bogdanov

and Karpov led and performed the exercises with the students, in contrast to
traditional acting classes where the teacher acts as audience and critic. Conse-

quently, the instruction was far less language-dependent than the typical course.
Classes consisted of rigorous and varied movement training, six hours
per day, five days per week. When the students began preparing scenes, evening
rehearsal time was added. Each instructor taught the students for half the day,
alternating mornings and afternoons. However, to ensure absolute synchronization, the non-teaching instructor always observed the other's class.

Although Bogdanov teaches pure Theatrical Biomechanics and Karpov

more traditional movement, their classes overlap, the natural outcome of having striven to move in parallel directions and to eliminate philosophical differences in their teaching. In Karpov's classes, the students apply the principles
of Biomechanics to the study of fencing, stage combat, stunt work, and complete physical compositions. As the course progresses, vocal work and eventually text are incorporated. Karpov explains his collaboration with Bogdanov
thus:

We can give different exercises, different tasks, but we are not in conflict
with one another. We support each other. We build on one another's work.
Gena (Bogdanov's nickname) and I agree completely on what we want the
actor to gain from the process, (personal interview)

Both instructors maintain emphatically that they are not trying to recreate the Biomechanical style as employed by Meyerhold but rather "to create a
foundation of Biomechanical principles on which contemporary actors and directors can build their work" (personal interview). They see their teaching as a
stepping stone to the future.
Theatrical Biomechanics and Emotion

Meyerhold is frequently accused of ignoring the actor's psyche, of training only the exterior. However, when he railed against Stanislavsky's "method

186 Jane Baldwin

of 'authentic emotion,'" it was not emotion that he decried but formlessness

(Meyerhold 199). "The fundamental deficiency of the modern actor" was, for
Meyerhold, a direct result of developing the inner life at the expense of, and
apart from, the physical (199).
Biomechanics is a holistic approach to actor trainingthe integration of
form and emotion. Meyerhold believed, as do his disciples Bogdanov and

Karpov, that the affective state must be created physically. In his writings,
Meyerhold emphasized that "all psychological states are determined by specific physiological processes," that "from a sequence of physical positions and
situations, there arise those points of excitation which are informed with some

particular emotion" (199). As the actor develops his or her body biomechanically, an eloquent instrument for the expression of feeling is being trained. At
the same time, Biomechanics employs a choreographic/athletic approach which

demands absolute accuracy. The discipline trains the actor to work in a state of
concentration and to retain only what is essential. The paradox of Theatrical
Biomechanics is the freedom that the mastery of this precise technique gives
the actor. For whatever the biomechanically-trained actor's imagination can
conceive, the body can depict.
The system deals with the actor's inner being in a variety of ways. The
student learns to surmount emotional as well as physical blocks. Biomechanics

develops the ability to perform in a state of profound concentrationan invaluable tool for the actor. Kathleen Baum, one of the institute students, ar-

ticulated a typical reaction:

The whole question of concentration has taken on new meanings for me.
There is an intensity, an absoluteness of concentration that I have never
encountered in actor training. In the simplest task, the moment your concentration is not 100%, you are off. It is visible, it is noted, you feel it in
yourself, (personal interview)

Exploring their physical limits, actors break old patterns and retrain their
responses. Throughout, the instructors remind the actor that the goal of the
rigorous training is not purely physical expertise but rather its ultimate application to the creation of a role. For example, the number of balls an actor may

juggle is far less consequential, ultimately, than who he or she is while juggling them.
Fundamentals of Theatrical Biomechanics

Actors train to develop agility, strength, and coordination throughout their

bodies, as well as a strong sense of ensemble. In practical terms, this means

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 187

they acquire equal facility on both their left and right sides, become adept at
walking on their hands, and all actors (female as well as male) learn to support
a partner's weight using various parts of their bodies.
From the initial class, students work with partners and in groups. Since
many of the exercises carry a certain physical risk, the stakes are high, inspiring an exceptional intensity of attention, mutual support, and ensemble. Actors seek to develop a total consciousness of the stage environment, experienced not only through the eyes and ears but, again, through the entire body.
They also learn to remain in control. Unlike movement courses that stress free-

ing the self, Biomechanics provides a rigid structure in which focus, precision,
and economy of energy are emphasized. Within this structure, the performer
develops expressiveness.
Rhythm and balance play a critical role. Meyerhold linked the two indissolubly: "The actor must have rhythm, must be familiar with the laws of bal-

ance. An actor ignorant of the laws of balance is less than an apprentice" (200).
Rhythm is the element of performance that creates both form and meaning in
Theatrical Biomechanics. The actor's role is akin to that of a musician in a

musical composition. His or her movements, gestures, line (i.e., the personal
mise en scne) fit rhythmically and integrally into the dramatic composition. To

aid the actor's rhythmic development, music is frequently integrated into the
classwork; actors sometimes work with the rhythm, more often against. The
skilled Biomechanical actor can perform while simultaneously utilizing disparate rhythms in different parts of the body.
Having thoroughly examined realistic activities, movement, and gesture,
Meyerhold concluded that any activity always contains, in a fixed order, certain universal components. He isolated these components, exaggerated them,
and gave them a theatrical shape in the exercises and tudes, or movement compositions, which he created.
In developing his system, Meyerhold created a vocabulary of movement.
The terminology of Theatrical Biomechanics offers actors a universal language
of the body, functioning in much the same way as Italian for musicians or French
for ballet dancers. Consequently, Bogdanov, for reasons of accuracy, insists that
even non-Russians learn the original terms. Listed below is the basic vocabulary and its translation:
Otkaz: (the refusal) a countermovement, a preparation for the action which also signals the partner that the actor is ready to interact. Meyerhold believed that all movement has a countermovement,
no matter how minute, which initiates it.

Pacil: (the sending) both the commitment to and the doing of the
action.

188 Jane Baldwin

Tormos: (the brake) the restraint which must be applied simultaneously with the forward momentum of the pacil to maintain control.

Tochka: (a point in space, a period at the end of the sentence) or

Stoika: (a stance) These two terms are often used interchangeably.
Both refer to the completion of the action at a specific point in space
and time.

Powsa: (the pause) a moment of stillness, an elegant counterpoint

to the physical activity. However, the body, even in stillness, is never
in repose. It continues to radiate the dynamic energy of readiness
for the next action. At the Tufts institute, the powsa was particularly
utilized in the tudes.

This sequence differentiates Theatrical Biomechanics from other forms of

movement training. The breaking down of all activity into otkaz, pacil, tormos,
and tochka instills exactness, spatial and temporal awareness, and plasticity
into the actors' work. Through repetition, the actor internalizes "the laws of
motion," learning to begin each movement with its opposite, to commit fully
to the action, and to come to a complete stop (Barba 157). Despite the braking
or stopping, the action is never static; each movement contains a trace of the
preceding as well as the germ of the subsequent move. As Kathryn Mederos
explains, "The combination of forward momentum and restraint gives the work
an elasticity, creating a kind of theatrical tension which is beautiful to watch"
(personal interview).
Biomechanical Exercises and tudes

At Tufts, classes in Biomechanics consisted of four segments, which flowed

one into the other and incorporated components of the tudes that terminated
the strictly Biomechanical work. This format can vary depending upon the duration of the session.

Classes start with a long and thorough warmup of the entire body. In the
initial classes at Tufts, warmups ran about an hour. As the students progressed,
the warmups were shortened so that the other elements could be expanded.
The warmup focuses on flexibility, balance, and coordination. Integrated into
the exercises are principles of ensemble, rhythm, spatial orientation, and responsiveness. A typical sequence starts slowly and gently and includes in the
following order: the rotation of the feet and ankles; gentle knee bends; rotations and isolation of the knees and hips, shoulders, arms, and wrists; flexing
and massaging of the hands and fingers; easy circles of the head.

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 189

Exercises then intensify, emphasizing the legs and, particularly, the feet.
Because balance is of primary importance, footwork is viewed as the base of

all movement, all expression. Students jog in place and proceed to running in a
circle, feet pointed toward the center, arms to the side, always keeping an equal
distance between themselves and their classmates. Even at this early stage of

the class, students focus on their relation to their surroundings and to others.
Running becomes more complexon the toes, on the heels, on the out-

side, then on the inside of the feet. The pace changes, positions change, steps
are varied. Students may lunge across the room, then repeat the same movement in a crouch. Throughout the exercise, Bogdanov moves beside the stu-

dents, encouraging, correcting, demonstrating, and giving directions to which

they must react immediately. That there is no obvious rhythm or logic to the
directional changes forces the student to sustain a high level of consciousness.
The warmup generally ends with a series of strenuous jumps undertaken

from a crouching position. In preparation, the student squats on the heels; the
right leg is extended to the side, then the left, repeating the movement several
times; then a jump straight up, arms held high. In mid-air, the knees are brought
to the chest and clutched briefly with the arms. The objective is to try to hold
the position in the air for a moment before landing once more in a crouch. In a

variant, the student does not draw up the knees but instead extends the body
mid-airback arching slightly, arms and legs outstretched, chest open, head
and eyes focused upwardbefore dropping back into a crouch on landing. As
the student builds strength, these jumps are performed in alternation, several
times in rapid succession. Other legwork may follow.

The next stage of the class consists of spatial work. For the actor, key components are: (1) to develop an awareness of the dynamic of the body in space;
(2) to develop presence; and (3) to explore the ways in which the body can
move through space. As in all biomechanical work, the principles of otkaz, pacil,
tormos, and tochka are applied in each exercise. There are numerous exercises
for this segment. I have restricted myself to three examples:

1. Two partners approach each other and create a simple mise en

scne with their bodies. Their relationship to the space is as important as their relationship to each other's body. The partners create
movement patterns until they have exhausted all possibilities.
2. Again investigating every potentiality, the actor experiments with
different ways of walkingforward, backwards, tripping, turning,
on one foot, on the hands, etc. This exercise can be used to explore
character walks. In a variation, the actor climbs and descends stairs.

Each step on the stair requires its own otkaz sequence.

190 Jane Baldwin

3. A third exercise for the group is based on the children's game
"Follow the Leader." The leader moves about the room at varying
speeds and directions, followed by the rest of the class. Movements
include jumps, leaps, turns, crouches, touching the floor with one
or both hands, etc.

This phase of the class over, students then move to training with objects,

most often batons and balls, employing left and right sides of the body equally.
While the obvious skills to be acquired are coordination and balance, the actors simultaneously make other discoveries. They learn about their own bodies as they explore the possibilities of movement, using the objects. Significantly, training with objects also directs the actor's attention outside of him/
herself, paving the way towards ensemble work. In class, the actor seldom
works alone; if an exercise does not call for a human partner, then inanimate
objects serve a similar function. Llory Wilson, who wanted to apply her studies at the institute to partnering in dance, noted the phenomenon:
I have learned so much about partnering through the baton work. AU the
learning about how to balance an object that isn't even dynamic, that isn't
even making a decision on its own, has been so helpful. I have learned so
much about how I as a partner would affect the mistakes of another person through my decisions, (personal interview)

In this segment as in all the others, there are innumerable variations of

increasing difficulty. Students are always challenged, never allowed to feel
comfortable. Most exercises begin on the flat floor, then move to ramps, balance beams, or levels of different heights. The following series depicting the
actor's work with the baton illustrates the drill required.
Baton poised on the palm of the hand, the actor prepares by bending the
knees (the otkaz), a downward movement, although the final movement is upwards. The baton is moved to a finger, then passed from one fingertip to another. The legs help to keep it balanced; the eyes focus on the end of the baton,
the inanimate partner. It is balanced on the shoulder, the elbow, the forehead,
on the toes of one foot while standing on the other. The actors begin to move,
to run, to stop and say a line of poetry while synchronously balancing the baton on the middle finger. Still moving, they twirl the baton hand-over-hand,
under a leg, behind the back. Twirling the baton, fingers facing downwards,
hands circle to the outside, then the student lifts his/her elbow while bringing
the baton to the shoulder level, then overhead. The baton is brought to the
opposite shoulder and caught with the other hand.
The next step involves partnering with another person. Students practice
in pairs, tossing the baton back and forth, first with the right hand, then the

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 191

left, then with two batons. As they become more competent, they throw and

catch the baton with various parts of the body in myriad ways. A second baton
is balanced on the first.

At every stage, Bogdanov adds a subtext of varying complexity, and the

object with which the student is working is endowed with a particular characteristic, giving the exercise dramatic meaning. The baton, for example, might
become a sword, a magic wand, a tool, etc. In each case, the manner in which

the actor relates to the object is altered by its new properties.

At the end of the third week of the institute, group improvisations with
batons were introduced, some incorporating music. The students were inclined
to become emotionally swept away by the music rather than using it as a counterpoint to their creation, a tendency criticized by the instructors.

In reviewing the improvisation, the instructors reiterated that, working

biomechanically, the actor perfects the form from which the emotion springs.
Although there is freedom of choice in the improvisation, there must be precision of action. The actor must proceed step by step, being careful not to rush.
Beginning students tend to skip over sections of the sequence, to sacrifice the

otkaz (the refusal) to the pacil (the sending), with chaotic results. Bogdanov
also cautioned the class that the work should be light and joyous.
Classwork culminates in an tude which brings together all the Biomechanical components. If the exercises are Meyerhold's barre work for the actor,

then, in keeping with the dance analogy, the etude parallels the combination.
Five tudes were bequeathed to Bogdanov by Kustov. They are entitled: "Shoot-

ing from the Bow," "Throwing the Stone," "Jump onto the Chest," "The Slap,"
and "The Stab." Meyerhold likened these tudes to brief pantomimic melodramas, several minutes in length. Some are monodramas; others involve two actors. At Tufts, the students worked on "Throwing the Stone" for one actor and
"The Stab" and "The Slap" for two. In general, the two person tudes present
the actor with a more complex set of tasks.
Each tude depicts a rudimentary story; the two person tudes have the
additional element of conflict. Each is inspired by an athletic activity or martial art, broken down into prescribed moments and rendered with precise, stylized, and bold movements. Performing the tudes demands intricate skills
the ability to make sudden physical, rhythmical, and emotional transitions;
the isolation and coordination of different muscle groups and body parts; precision, endurance, and timing.
The tudes are not an end in themselves but compositions intended for the
practice of a technique. Formalistic, they are diametrically opposed to impro-

192 Jane Baldwin

visation. Like dance combinations, they serve the double function of revealing
to the actor areas of weakness and improving those areas. Their aim, however,

is distinctly theatrical. Their purpose extends beyond the perfecting of physical skills; equally important is their dramatic component. At this level of
classwork, the actor's task becomes the complete integration of form and emotion.

Inherent to each tude is a dramatic build leading to at least one specific

feeling expressed in formalized gestic movementexuberance, menace, fear,

triumph, etc. Because they depict conflict, emotion is particularly high in the
partner tudes. While feeling is expressed to the audience through the gesture,
it is also the gesture that evokes feeling in the actor. This is strictly antithetical
to the Method approach of searching for emotion within the realm of personal
experience. And yet, the phrase Bogdanov so often repeats in this regard, "the
emotion is in the commitment to the action," is applicable to the Method and
Biomechanics alike.

Bogdanov monitors this section of the work very closely since the student
is at risk of falling into the solipsistic trap described by Meyerhold, who castigated the actor "so overwhelmed by his emotions, that he has been unable to
answer either for his movements or for his voice" (199). Lost are balance, coordination, accuracy, focus, controlin a word, form. The actor experiences a
rush of feeling but at the audience's expense. To counteract this tendency,
Bogdanov has the actors work on the solo tudes in a circle where, in addition

to the expression of form and emotion, they concentrate on group timing,

rhythm, and spatial relationship. Focus is at once inward, on the actors' own
work, and outward, on the others in the circle. For the two person tudes, all
the actors work at the same time, so again shared focus is an essential factor.
During the early stages of the learning process, Bogdanov calls out the
names of each component of the tude, signaling the transition from one segment into the next. Segments are linked by what could best be described as an
active pause, in which the body holds its position in a state of dynamic tension. These pauses vary in length, from roughly three seconds to perhaps twenty.
As their length is not fixed, the etude's tempo cannot be anticipated. Students
must maintain their bodies in a constant state of readiness for the next action.

This is a point to which Bogdanov returns again and again. Like Meyerhold, he
believes that relaxation, in the sense of letting go, is inimical to theatricality.
Once their execution becomes more competent, students perform the tudes
without Bogdanov's commands. The group must spontaneously determine the
tempo of its transitions from segment to segment in the course of performing

the tude. They listen to each other's breathing and observe peripherally the

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 193

pace of the others' gestures and their otkaz, while maintaining individual precision of form in a complex and strenuous movement sequence.

In the partner tudes, all the actors work concurrently, though in pairs.
Identical ensemble considerations come into play but with the added ingredient of response. Unlike realistic acting, the dynamic, from the actor's point of
view, is more rhythmic than emotional. The actor orients by the partner's

rhythm, feeling the "right" moment to come in. From a directorial perspective,
this permits a control over the rhythms of a production that Method spontaneity does not.
The Dactyl

Initiating and terminating all tudes is the dactyl, the punctuation mark of
the tude. It is a sequence of movements in which group rhythm is established;
this sequence is repeated until the actors are in synchronization. Complicating
the task is the uneven rhythm of the dactyl. A similar syncopated rhythm is

found in the tudes. Although a complex set of movements, the dactyl takes
only a few seconds to perform.

Standing in the neutral position, feet parallel and opened to shoulder

width, the actor bounces slightly on the toes. This opening movement is followed by the otkazknees bend, elbows are back, head bends facing the floor.

By contrast, the pacil is an extensionthe legs straighten, and the arms, hands,
and face lift straight up, reaching towards the ceiling. The body drops again
quickly; the knees bend and bounce; the head hangs forward; then the actor

rolls up quickly, and the hands are brought together in an expansive rounded
movement punctuated by two brisk claps. The claps are synchronized with two
knee bounces. There is a brief release of energy as the body flops forward; then

the legs and body straighten as the actor assumes the neutral positionthe
tochka. From there, the actor jumps into position to begin the tude.

The following is a description of "The Slap" as it was worked on in class

under the direction of Bogdanov. Throughout this tude, the relation of the actors' bodies to the audience would be in profile or three-quarter silhouette.
The Slap
1. Preparation. Partners A and B face each other in the neutral position. They are far enough apart so they must lean into a lunge to
grasp hands.

194 Jane Baldwin

2. The Stance. Knees bent, actors jump into the air; head and upper
body roll forward and straighten; they land with one foot in front
of the other, still facing the partner.

3. Preparation for the Greeting. From the neutral position, both partners pivot right, now facing each other on the diagonal. The leading hip thrusts forward; the weight is on the rear leg, which is bent.
The front leg extends straight forward, toe pointed and slightly
turned in. Simultaneously, the right arm draws back, elbow bent,

hand at chest level, palm parallel to the torso, fingers extended.

The left arm hangs at ease in front of the torso. The partners contemplate one another over their left shoulders.
4. The Greeting. Forward weight shift into a deep lunge; the rear leg
is fully extended. Leaning into each other, partners extend their right
arms and grasp hands.
5. The Stance. The partners release hands and straighten briefly to
the neutral position.
6. The Dance. In a series of quick, rhythmic steps reminiscent of a

tap dance, the actors shuffle and stamp, hopping from foot to foot,
leaning deep into the floor with each step. Simultaneously, they
swing their arms up over their heads in a sweeping gesture and
then rub their hands together as if to warm them.
7. The Stance. At a signal from Bogdanov, the actors jump into the
air and land in the neutral position. On the ascent, the arms pull to

the sides, bend at the elbow, and straightenthree times by the

completion of the descent.
8. Preparation for the Slap. From neutral, in a single wave-like motion, the actors contract, straighten, and pivot right, stepping back

onto the right foot. The right knee bends; the weight shifts over the
right leg, the entire angle of the body tilting right. The left leg is
extended forward, slightly turned in, toe pointed, knee slightly bent.

The partners are once again facing one another on the diagonal. Simultaneously, A's right arm swings slowly back in a wide arc, com-

ing to rest overhead, raised and curving, palm opened out. The left
arm is extended, curving downward. Together the two arms form a
single, S-shaped line. Meanwhile B's right arm draws back, elbow
bent, hand at chest level, palm parallel to the torso, fingers extended.
The left arm hangs down in front of the torso. The partners contemplate each other over their left shoulders. The effect is frieze-like.

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 195

9. Taking Aim. Partner A pivots the upper body right, bringing the
right hand around to meet B's cheek. The weight shifts from right

to left leg. Following a slight otkaz backwards, B leans toward A,

proffering cheek. Hand and cheek almost touch.
10. The Slap. Partner A shifts weight back onto the right leg, swing-

ing the right arm back in a sweeping motion, then forward in a

"slap" which brushes past, but does not touch, B's cheek. B recoils,

clapping hands together to make a slapping sound. The left arm is

flung straight up as the body and head rise to follow, right hand

hanging toward the floor. The weight shifts to the right leg, which
bends slightly as the left hand drops to touch the slapped cheek. B
gazes upward.
11. Repetition. Using the stance as the otkaz, sequence 6 through 10
is repeated with the partners exchanging roles.
12. The Walk. The final sequence. Partners link arms and promenade
in a circle. Their gait is military, almost a march, and their free arms
swing like those of soldiers on parade.
Scenes

During the last week of classes at Tufts, scene work was added and integrated into the work, albeit in rough form. In preparation, sound and then words
were included in the exercises. The scenes were drawn from Antigone, Twelfth

Night, The Taming of the Shrew, and The Tempest, but their focus was physical.
Students enjoyed bringing a Biomechanical dimension to these classic scenes.
Tumbling, stage combat, juggling, gymnastics were incorporated and combined,
as were many of the class exercises. Because of the pressures of time, students
were unable to bring the scenes to completion, leaving the actors somewhat
frustrated.

In evaluating the institute, students expressed tremendous enthusiasm for

the work and for the instructors. They felt that while it was very demanding,
they had gained immeasurably as theatre artists; almost all mentioned that
they hoped to have the opportunity to continue. All agreed that participating
in a Biomechanics class was a very different experience from what they had
envisioned in reading about the technique.
Most of them anticipated using what they had learned of Theatrical Biomechanics professionally. One of the teachers had plans for directing a
commedia-like farce, utilizing many of the class exercises both in the staging

196 Jane Baldwin

and in working with his students. The technique is very useful in comedy because of its emphasis on rhythm and timing. Two of the students who teach at
Syracuse University, Kathleen Baum and Donna Inglima, intended to team teach

a movement-based acting class. Dancer Llory Wilson envisaged choreographing a piece which would bridge the gulf between dance and theatre by using
Biomechanical movement. And Marianne Kubik, a director who works with an

alternative theatre company, had already begun to incorporate rudimentary

Biomechanical exercises into the rehearsal process, to which her actors responded enthusiastically.
Production

The institute left us with a question: After a month of intensive introductory study in Theatrical Biomechanics, how well can students apply the skills

and principles they have learned to performance? That is what the company of
the Phoenix Ensemble set out to discover when they invited Gennadi Bogdanov
to work with them.5

The Phoenix Ensemble first became acquainted with Bogdanov's work in

1991, when the company brought one of its productions to GITIS as part of an
exchange. During his stay, Paul Knox, artistic director and actor with the company, audited Bogdanov's class a few times and became persuaded that the

Method-trained Phoenix Ensemble actors had much to gain from

movement-based Biomechanics.

Knox conceived a project with two related objectives: the first, to expand

the actors' creative possibilities; the second, to put the training to a practical
test in a production of Mayakovsky's Banya (The Bathtub ) in its American translation. This play, directed by Meyerhold in 1930, would allow the Phoenix actors to use their Biomechanical training directly and fully.
Bogdanov spent almost five weeks with the company, giving classes three
hours a day, three days a week, with another eight hours on the weekend. Apart
from the absence of Karpov, the most significant difference between the Phoenix Ensemble's training and that at Tufts was the number of hours of classes
per weekseventeen hours for the Phoenix versus thirty at Tufts. However,
the fact that the Phoenix actors were part of an existing company, and that the
training was a prelude to a specific undertaking, gave the work immediacy
and a different dynamic.
The Bathtub was mounted by Ivan Popovski, a recent graduate of GITIS's
five-year program and a bright star in the rising generation of Russian directors. Popovski arrived after Bogdanov's departure and spent his initial time

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 197

observing the Phoenix company performing Biomechanical exercises and tudes
before beginning auditions. His knowledge of Bogdanov's work aided him in
his task, which he viewed as "the conclusion to the work the company had
done with Gena" (personal interview).

While Popovski does not consider himself a strict Meyerhold disciple, he too
subscribes to a theatre of form and

movement. Like Meyerhold, he be-

lieves physical form is the medium

which reveals emotion.

During the first few days,

Popovski encountered a number of

challenges. Particularly problematic

was the fact of having less control over

the total production than he has in

working with his own company. His

pool of actors was both unfamiliar to

him and circumscribed. The agreement
with Knox stipulated that the cast
would have to be drawn from the Phoe-

nix Ensemble. A major reason for

choosing The Bathtub was that it gave
the company's seventeen actors the
opportunity to participate. Casting ultimately crossed gender and racial
lines, a pragmatic rather than an artistic choice due to the limited number of
male actors.

The difference in training and ex-

perience of the Phoenix Ensemble also

posed difficulties for Popovski, as did
the rehearsal period. Six weeks of rehearsal, generous by American standards, is far less than the time span to
which he is accustomed. Familiar with
From the Phoenix Ensemble production of The

Bathtub by Paul Schmidt, directed by Ivan

Popovski. From top to bottom: Edward
Cunningham, Paul Knox, Cecilia Arana, and
Tony Jackson. Photo: T. L. Boston.

the original Mayakovsky script, he was

unacquainted with the American version. Working in English was also problematic. Albeit furnished with a trans-

lator, Popovski preferred to deal di-

198 Jane Baldwin

rectly with the actors and was sometimes frustrated by the limits of his English.
These hindrances, however, were greatly mitigated by the actors of the

Phoenix Ensemble. Their warmth, friendliness, receptivity, and especially their

commitment impressed Popovski. He recalls: "I was struck by the joy that they
brought to the work, that kind of hunger. They gave so much of themselves"
(personal interview). Stimulated by their studies with Bogdanov, the company

entered the rehearsal process eager to make the transition from the workshop
exercises to production. As a result of the training, they felt that "their mental
and physical capabilities had been opened up to what would have been unimaginable before" (personal interview).

The actors found it fascinating to connect the physical training to character. Despite the fact that creating character through movement rather than psychology was a departure for them, they responded well to the stretch. For example, Cathy Daves played Mr. Yamarama, a caricatured Japanese businessman whose dialogue was gibberish. Unable to rely on words, the traditional
point of departure for building a role, Daves found Biomechanics had freed

From left to right: Paul Knox, Edward Cunningham, Cecilia Arana in The Bathtub. Photo: T. L.
Boston.

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 199

her from a naturalistic mindset and allowed her to create a multifaceted char-

acter. The actors developed an almost directorial awareness of composition,

while their acquired physical prowess allowed them to take risks which served
the mise en scne, giving it a life it would not have had otherwise.

The production was a tribute to Meyerhold. Scenic and costume designs,

which had been prepared before Popovski's arrival and without his input, were

adaptations of the original. Felix Filshtinsky's set, a modified version of

Meyerhold's multi-level constructivist "machine for actors," consisted of scaffolding, platforms, stairs, and ladders. Space and budget limitations necessitated downscaling. Nevertheless, the director made good use of levels and platforms; nimbly, the actors scampered, climbed, lay on and hung from the set,

creating a performance where the visual image was at least as important as the
spoken word. Popovski coordinated historical components of Meyerhold's
production as well as elements of the Biomechanical tudes into a mise en scne
that was very much his own. The tudes were integrated into the staging in
much the same way as ballet exercises are choreographed into a dance.
Unfortunately, Paul Schmidt's adaptation of Banya was a weak link in the

project. Like Meyerhold, Mayakovsky espoused political theatre. With Banya,

both playwright and director were treading dangerous waters, attacking the
Soviet bureaucracy and, by extension, the direction of their society. Recognizing that the original, with its allusions and complicated punning, would be

incomprehensible for his audience, Schmidt updated and Americanized the play
(Schmidt 68). The issues Schmidt raisesN.E.A. funding, sexual harassment,
the role of art in the U.S., industrial powerwhile important, are less crucial.
Perhaps the pivotal difference, however, is that Schmidt is writing for an audience of the convinced. Schmidt's public shares his politics; thus it is impossible for his adaptation to have the same polarizing effect as Mayakovsky's
original.
For the Phoenix Ensemble, the experiment proved successful. Reviews,
while mixed, were more favorable than not. More important to the company
was their artistic growth. Even within the short time-frame of their work with

Bogdanov and Popovski, both their concept and practice of acting evolved.
The skills they acquired through their Biomechanical training have given them

greater confidence and have broadened their creative range. Speaking for his
company, Paul Knox describes their greatest gain: "We felt that we expanded
our physical capabilities and built a physical discipline into which we could
then bring the emotional life" (personal interview). They came to believe that
Biomechanics is not necessarily a discrete discipline and that its external approach can be synthesized with the psychological technique demanded by most
of our drama, enriching it. Eager to continue their exploration of Theatrical

200 Jane Baldwin

Biomechanics, the Phoenix Ensemble managed to raise sufficient funds to bring

Bogdanov back for another month's training in the summer of 1994.

Bogdanov and Karpov continue to teach internationally as part as part of

the campaign they are waging to introduce, develop, and proliferate Theatri-

cal Biomechanics. In the spring of 1996, they will return to the U.S. to conduct
a Biomechanical Institute at Syracuse University.

Jane Baldwin is an Instructor of Theatre at The Boston Conservatory and the

College of Holy Cross.
Notes

1. Partial support for the institute was provided by a grant from the Trust for Mutual
Understanding.

2.

New information concerning Meyerhold's arrest and trial has recently come to

light. While researching material for his book, La parole ressucite: dans les archives
littraires du KGB, Vitali Chentalinski discovered in the archives of Lubyanka Prison a
letter from Vsevolod Meyerhold to Molotov, then Prime Minister of the Soviet Union,
protesting and detailing the vicious physical and psychological torture he had undergone at the hands of the secret police.
3. During the course of the institute, I interviewed instructors Gennadi Bogdanov
and Nikolai Karpov extensively with the assistance of translator Kathryn Mederos.
Having begun their professional careers during the early 1970s, they were an invaluable source of first-hand information about the Soviet theatre of this period.
4. The description and explication of the work is based on my daily observation of
the institute's classes as well as in-depth discussions and interviews with the students
and teachers over a four-week period.
5. As part of my research, I interviewed members of the company as well as viewing
the production.
Works Cited
Barba, Eugenio. A Dictionary of Theatre Anthropology: The Secret Art of the Performer. London:
Routledge, 1991.
Baum, Kathleen. Personal interview. 27 June 1993.

Bogdanov, Gennadi. Personal interviews. 24, 28, and 29 June 1993.

Chentalinski, Vitali. La parole ressucite: dans les archives du KGB. Trans. Galia Ackerman
and Pierre Lorrain. Paris: ditions Robert Laffont, 1993.

Meyerhold's Theatrical Biomechanics 201

Inglima, Donna. Personal interview. 29 June 1993.
Karpov, Nikolai. Personal interviews. 19, 24, and 28 June 1993.
Knox, Paul. Personal interview. 12 November 1993.

Kubik, Marianne. Personal interview. 27 June 1993.

Mederos, Kathryn. Personal interview. 2 July 1993.

Meyerhold, Vsevolod. Meyerhold on Theatre. Ed. and trans. Edward Braun. London: Eyre
Methuen, 1978.

Popovski, Ivan. Personal interview. 5 December 1993.

Rudnitsky, Konstantin. Meyerhold the Director. Trans. George Petrov. Ann Arbor: Ardis, 1981.
Schmidt, Paul. Introduction to The Bathtub. Theater 22.2 (1991): 68.

Slonim, Marc. Russian Theatre: From the Empire to the Soviets. Cleveland: World Publishing,
1961.

Wilson, Llory. Personal interview. 25 June 1993.