The Masked Actor

How masks helped me then and now.

Masks. They’re everywhere. You can’t escape them.

Throughout the last twelve months, we’ve been encouraged to wear them for reasons that we all know about. Some find it against their principles to do so. I won’t share my opinions of those people, as there’s enough bad feeling in the world as it is. What I will say, however, is that masks can be a freeing experience.

Masks have been a big part of my life. Of course, these days I’m wearing a mask during the day whenever out. I’m also wearing a mask at night, due to sleep apnoea. As potentially annoying as they may be, I don’t begrudge this as the masks are helping me live my life.

A mask of the past really helped me in my performance skills.

When I was studying Drama & Theatre Studies at Middlesex University, I took part in a few classes that dealt with Commedia dell’arte. For those not familiar with it, it is a theatrical style where ensemble casts perform stories using masks and improvisation, whilst maintaining a set storyline. It’s history dates back to 16th Century Italy.

Our guest lecturer came in to teach us some of the traits. After a few lessons involving learning the structure of scenes, physicalising the characters and understanding their status, it was time for the masks. Before putting any on, we had to study the mask, observing the grotesque features and how to those in your performance.

This lesson took place at any interesting time for me. It was towards the end of my second year at uni, about eight months in loving with my uni flatmates, ad times were odd for me. I was still learning about myself, both as a performer and in life. I am not perfect, and I certainly wasn’t back then, but I did feel I was often a bit of an outcast. I didn’t really fit in with the cliques that formed and I was rarely cast for shows. Confidence was not something that came naturally to me.

In this lesson, we were all asked to wander around the studio as the character of Pantalone, a miser with high status whose true devotion was money. The mask depicted a furrowed brow and long angled nose. My fellow students and I walked round the room with crooked backs, rubbing our hands and muttering about the subject of money.

The lecturer noted the energy I was putting into it and, without warning, strapped the Pantalone mask on my face (I should note that everyone was asked if this would be alright beforehand. Anyone that did not wish to put a mask on sat out of the exercise).

With the simple instruction of “carry on”, I continued to make my way around, noticing the room was suddenly getting quieter. The lecturer stopped the other students and before I knew it, I had a captive audience watching me perform a character I had never done, making the dialogue up as I went along.

And I felt amazing.

The mask blocked my peripheral vision, but more than that, it seemed to stop any doubt creeping into my head.

I was Pantalone.

I answered questions as the character, I ad-libbed funny quips and I never broke character until the mask was removed.

It was truly liberating experience. Getting picked to go first was very satisfying, as I felt the lecturer knew I could do a good job. Others in the class did their own performance after mine, but the fact that I set the standard was a huge lift in my self-esteem. I’m not saying it changed a huge amount in my standing at uni, but it really helped me personally. I felt free, unrestricted and confident in my ability.

I can’t say I don’t still have confidence issues, as I absolutely do. But I know when I need to do something well, I think back to that lesson and picture being in that mask.

Masks helped me then and they’re helping me now.

They’ll help you too.