THE RING OF TRUTH

Yesterday, January 5, 2012 I shared this with some friends and former students:

a beginning

Over the years my students have regularly encouraged me to write my teachings down and to share them with others. Recently, one student in particular more than any of the others. If ever there was a good time to begin, now is that time.

Since this work has always been collaborative for me, I really don't know how to do it alone. I'm going to share it with you now a "very very first draft" of the beginning of the story. Because, yes, I also don't know how to say anything outside of the story form.

Preface (rough draft):

As a student of Sanford Meisner at The Neighborhood Playhouse I received a most precious gift, a guiding belief in the great value of "a sense of truth." It was the standard to which Mr. Meisner and all his subordinate teachers and students were devoted. Each day we strove toward grasping this illusive term, I had never heard before, "a sense of truth." Over the course of two years of ceaseless practice and observation of countless exercises designed to hone one's "sense of truth," it was the standard to which the quality of all our work was always measured.

The question always, "How does the work at hand square with one's sense of truth?"

In time I came to realize it had a ring to it, a "ring of truth." One could best detect it in the sound of a person's inner emotional life. Visually, the best way to detect it was to determine, "is the person really doing something or are they pretending to do it?"

Nothing less than "the ring of truth" was ever acceptable to Mr. Meisner. Fortunately for his students, he had perfect pitch for the "ring of truth." One could always count on what seemed like his x-ray vision into each student's soul, usually by means of his extraordinary ear for emotional life and for his uncanny ability to detect the most miniscule diversion from "the reality of doing."

He was our tuning fork, by which, over time we each learned to tune our own instruments. 

Since then, this ethos has been the foundation for all my creative work.  Though I've often fallen short, due to my own limitations, I do not recall ever consciously compromising my sense of truth, in the work, for anything or any body.

William "Bill" Reilly and I shared these same artistic values.

(to be continued)

Syntax and punctuation are not my strong suit. Please forgive. This is my first rough draft.

Moving forward today (January 6), I came across a piece I've given my students for years:

The Ring of Truth 
by Vernon Howard adapted by José Angel Santana 

A Swiss shepherd girl was kidnapped by passing gypsies. As she was hustled away inside the wagon, she heard the ringing of the village bell. The sound became fainter and fainter as the wagon carried her away. But that bell's special tone made a permanent impression upon her mind.

Years later, as she grew up, the memory of that bell stirred a restless urge within. It made her weary of the gypsy life. she longed to return to her rightful home. So she broke away from the gypsy camp and began her search. She wandered from country to country, village to village, listening intensely for the special ring of that single bell. She heard many peals as she journeyed along, but she always detected a false ring, and so refused to be lured away.

Finally, while pausing by the roadside to rest, she heard a faintly familiar peal. She turned in its direction. The farther she walked the more swiftly she stepped. Something within her knew that she was hearing her village bell at last. And she followed it all the way home.

Likewise, the ring of truth is inside every person. And this is not something merely mystical or philosophical. It is a practical fact. If one learns to listen, if we refuse to be lured away by false sounds, we will find our way home. The ring of truth will always be recognized by the person who listens. And everyone has the capacity to listen and to follow.

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"The play's the thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king."