It seems to me that I shall have to speak once more and again try to make myself clear on a certain part of the method. From what I hear and a couple of letters that I have received from you, some minds do not seem to catch the point, and I do not think it is the fault of my English, of my words, or of the way I explain. It is probably something much deeper. For me the question is clear; you do not understand and I do not blame you, because it cannot be done in four, ﬁve, or even six months. You do not, however, understand the use and way of using the feelings. I know this because some of you have said, for instance, that you
knew everything that has been said to you. I don’t deny that I say nothing new. I say what every actor who thinks about his work will tell you, something that you can ﬁnd in the letters of Jeﬀerson, Booth, Duse, and the other great actors. The diﬀerence is, once again, that to know and to understand is one thing and to use and apply is another. In the same way, I might tell you to make this table and explain how you should do it, but you yourself must be able to take the board, saw it right, cut it to the proper lengths, glue the pieces together, and so on. So you may say that you understand Memory of Feeling, and you may be able to make the table, but I don’t think so, and to prove it, I am going to work with you a little bit, practically. What I am going to do is a sort of what I call a “One Minute Play,” which is for the actor what the one-minute sketch is for the painter. In these one-minute plays, I do not require from you exterior char-
acterizations; I don’t require literary quality in your words; I ask only the truth of your feelings. The way we usually work on these one-minute plays is for me to draw the situation – the way the thing is – then every actor asks himself as a character or as something which helps to clear the situation; you go and rehearse three or four times until it reaches a certain form.