Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Betsy McGee Forester Day--About Time


About Time


Betsy McGee Forester Day woke up early.   Her mother had forgotten to close the curtains the night before and the early sun streaming through her window had brought her out of a happy dream and into what was certain to be a happy day.
Mother said the days were “getting longer”—she would have to ask her what that meant.  She had been thinking about time more and more lately.  She thought she was about ready to try to figure out how to “tell time.”   Daddy would call from somewhere, “What time is it?”  Betsy wanted to say, “Silly, it’s now.”  But Mama would look up at the big clock in the kitchen or the little one in her office and call back something like, “It’s six-thirty.  Time to come in a clean up for dinner.”  Or “It’s almost eight thirty.  If you’re not careful you’ll be late for work.”  Or she would say, “Betsy McGee Forester Day, it’s eight thirty.  Time for bed.”  How could eight thirty be both time for work in the morning when the sun was shining and time for bed when it was almost dark.”  It was puzzling and a little worrying.  Yes it was definitely time for Betsy to study the clock to see if she could understand time. 

She knew some things about time.   The word “now” and “today” and “yesterday” and “tomorrow” she knew were times.  Christmas was a time.  Her birthday was a time.  But what did that have to do with the clock?  If she could read it would she be able to make it Christmas?  Or her birthday?   She didn’t think so.  Mama and Daddy could tell time and she was sure that when she said “I wish it was my birthday,” if they could have the clock make her wish come true they would.  But something about the clock and time were important to them.  She couldn’t hear anyone stirring.  Even Butterbutt was asleep.  She was lying in the sunlight coming through her window.  She needed to see a clock.  Maybe she could get out of her crib very quietly (over the side, down to the reading chair) and go and study the clock and get back before Daddy or Mama knew she was up.   She had thought it was time for a big girl bed for a long time, but Mother said, not till her fourth birthday.  (That was when her mother got her own big girl bed.)  She knew her mother thought the bars on the crib “kept her safe” and kept her from getting out of bed.  It was kind of silly, since she had been able to get out of her crib by herself for a long, long time, but if it made Mama feel good to think she was tucked up safe in her crib, well she had just learned to be careful.
She decided to go to the kitchen.  It had the biggest clock.  She got out of her crib and tiptoed past her parents’ room.  She could see and hear they were still sleeping.  Mama’s breaths were slow and Daddy was snoring a little.  Good!  In the kitchen she settled herself in a chair that had the best view of the clock.  OK.  It had big numbers going around in a circle and she could read them all.  Her Daddy had taught her numbers along with the alphabet song.  One, two, three, four . . . but she didn’t understand why after ten there was a one, one and then a one, two.  What did that mean? They must stand for eleven and twelve, but she wasn’t sure. 
Why were they in a circle?  What did they stand for?  And why were there three arrows on the clock.  She had watched them long enough one day to know that the skinny little arrow went fast.  The fat long arrow was faster than the little arrow that went very slowly indeed.  She could catch the long fat arrow moving sometimes if she watched a long time without blinking but she couldn’t catch the short fat one at all.  But she knew it must move because whenever she looked at it through the day it was in a different place.
She thought and thought and thought but the answer didn’t come.  She was about to give up and go back to her crib when all at once . . .
“Betsy McGee Forester Day!”  Daddy exclaimed.  He looked funny standing there in his bare feet and rumpled pajamas.  His hair looked very funny, standing up in clumps.  But even though he had said her favorite words the music was not happy music.  It was a little angry and even a little . . . scared.  “How did you get out of your crib?”
Betsy was not happy to have been caught but though she could keep a secret from her parents she couldn’t lie.  She almost did the day she played with Mama’s colors, but she didn’t.  She just couldn’t.  And after she was finished being upset Mama gave her her own colors.  So she didn’t lie now.  “Leg over the top.  Hold on.  Slide down to the reading chair.”
Betsy could see that her father was trying very hard not to smile his inside face was clearly smiling.  “How long have you been getting out on your own.”  (What did that mean “how long.”)  “I figured it out three a long time ago.  I think about ten Saturdays.  (Saturday was Daddy’s first at-home day of the week.  Betsy counted everything that had happened in Saturdays—up to ten.)
“And have you done this very often?”
Betsy’s face said:  “?”
“Have you done it a lot?”
“Not a lot.  I didn’t think you or Mama would be happy.”
“Well, young lady, we aren’t.  But once a thing is learned it can’t be unlearned.  I guess it’s time for us to get you a big girl bed.  If I promise to do that on Saturday will you promise not to get out of your crib till then?
“I guess,”  Betsy said sadly, but then she brightened.  “It would be easy to promise if you put a clock in my room.”
This time his outside face laughed out loud.  “Why do you want a clock?”
“I want to learn to tell time like you and Mama.”
“Ah . . . is that why you got up so early?”
“Yes.  But I haven’t figured it out so far.”
“I tell you what.  When I get home tonight Mama and I will make the kind of clock you need to learn to tell time.  My own father made one for me, but I think I was a lot older than you are now.  How will that do?”
“That’s fine!”
“Well, let’s get you back in bed before Mama wakes up.  I think it’s best if I explain all this to her.”
“OK, but I have to tinkle first.  No problems.”
“I’ll wait outside the door, just in case.”
“That’s good cause I want to ask you a question.  After ten, why does the clock say one, one and then one, two?”
While he waited outside the door Daddy thought about how to explain it.  “Those are the next two numbers after ten.  You don’t say, ‘one, one,’ you say ‘eleven’.   You know that.”
“I know it counting but not seeing.  Mother and I have elevenses. But we have elevenses at different times.”
“I think it’s just a saying for a morning snack. And, going on  ‘one, two’ is twelve.”
“That’s easy!  It’s a lot like ‘elves.’  Twelve. Twelve. Twelve.  Is that it or are there more.”
“Lot’s more.  More numbers than a person could count in her whole life.  More than the stars in the sky.”
“How will I ever learn them all?”  Betsy was suddenly very sad.
Daddy hurried to say:  “No, there’s an easy pattern—a trick.  When you learn a few more words you will be able to read any number.”
“Is ‘thirty’ one of them?”
“Yes.”
“Thought so!  Is it on the clock?”
“Yes!  How did you know that.”
“I just knew.  What’s next!?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what.  Let’s make the learning clock tonight and then I’ll show you how to know the numbers on it.  We’ll save the rest for Saturday.  What do you say?  Deal?”
Daddy took Betsy back to her bed.  She was very excited!  Eleven, twelve, eleven, twelve . . . “  The next thing Betsy knew her Mama was waking her up.
“Good morning, swee’pea.  Did you have a good sleep?”
“Oh, yes, Mama.


Wednesday, July 10, 2013

If It Be Not Now . . . Chapter 4 After Auditions


***************

        “Shirley, you and  . . . I’m sorry . . . what’s your assistant’s name?”
        “Chloe.”
        “You and Chloe did an excellent job. I was very worried that I had allowed inadequate time to give everyone a good ‘read.’ But you managed to keep things flowing very nicely.”
        “I’ve never seen a call-back where everyone called for a role is called at one time. Is that usual?”
        “It’s usual for me but not in the profession. In the professional theatre it is very rare that anyone gets to read with anyone but a reader hired for the occasion. Once in awhile it is necessary to call someone in to read with an actor already cast, in order to assure that there is the appropriate chemistry, but even that is not very common.”
        Chloe was continuing to stack chair, pick up discarded sides, empty water bottles and the like but it was clear that she was listening very carefully to the discussion. As a sophomore ASM, this was her first opportunity to hear a director explain her practices. The graduate readers were apparently assembling their things very slowly. This was opportunity for them to learn something about the director also.
        “Why do you do it this way,” Shirley asked.
        “While we try to run rehearsals and performances according to professional practices, this is a learning institution. The undergraduates are eager to be cast in order to extend both their resumes and their craft. You can’t really accomplish in a classroom what you can in a rehearsal room for a full production. They deserve to see the work of the people who are cast and those who are not.  It is a critical learning opportunity. They learn not only that seniors are less nervous and better prepared, especially for cold reading than lower classmen. It gives them hope that four years of education are barely sufficient to prepare them to go out into the world. Of course, those you aren’t cast will be royally pissed off for a week or two, but eventually they will be able to accept that the casting was fair. That is, if I’m able to do a good job with the information they’ve given me tonight.”
        “About who is most talented?”
        “Oh, God, no! As far as I’m concerned talent just means having an instrument capable of learning what one needs to learn to develop in an art or a discipline. We try not to take any but students who have sufficient talent. I have to consider each of their degrees of readiness for the challenge of the particular role they’re being considered for and whether they have the right ‘stuff’ for the role.” 

Maggie saw that the grad students were unable to delay their exit any longer without appearing to eavesdrop and were headed for the exit.

 “Hey, guys, are you willing to come across the street and discuss casting with me? Drinks are on me—but only the first one. After that you’re on your own dime.”
        The differences in emotional reaction were fairly comic.  Surprise, disbelief, cynicism, doubt, pleasure—flitted in turn across their faces. “Sure,” they chorused.

As the untidy gaggly wandered in they were greeted by a very tall, smiling bartender.  “Hi, Doc Saltz!  Are all these people with you?”

“Yes.  They’re our new graduate class.  Feel free to check ID’s but I know personally they’re all well above age.”

“I’ll take your word for it—just never saw you here with students before except on opening night.  I guess you’ll be wanting a big table?”

“Could we have the big one with the banquette in back?  It’ll be a squeeze but I think we can all fit there and it gives us a little privacy.”

“Surest thing in the world.  Just follow me. We’re a little shorthanded tonight. I’ll take your orders myself. Your usual?”

“Yes, but make it a double. It’s been a looong day. And you can set my card up for one round.”

Maggie seated herself in the center of the worn red leather banquette and noted how the rest of them jostled to seat themselves in relation to her. While Jay took their orders she reviewed the mental notes she had made about them during their long-ago auditions and added some more recent revisions. Vanessa Stevens, next to her , the youngest and tallest woman of the group.  Long honey-blonde hair and a killer profile, tempered by her physicality.  Watching her hair swinging behind her as they had crossed to the bar she had the bumptious, loose-jointed coordination of a new colt.

Next to her, ordering Bass Ale was, Daniel Katsulas, whose dark smoldering good looks were clearly the genetic inheritance of his Greek ancestors.  His long dark hair, falling over his eye gave him an opportunity to sweep them away to good effect.  He would make a truly romantic Hamlet but his audition promised a fiery one as well.  Fortunately, just short of six feet he had made possible the unusual choice of tall, gangly Vanessa as Ophelia.

Ian MacDougal, surprisingly had take the seat next to Daniel. 
Surprising because of all the newbies he was the most likely to have harbored the illusion that he might be cast as Hamlet.  He was, in his way, as tall and good-looking as Daniel, but his were the farm-boy good looks she identified with the Midwest.  His blond hair was very short, almost buzzed.  And like Daniel he had significant expertise at sword and dagger fencing.  They would be able to produce a climactically exciting duel at the end of the play without too much fear of injury. 

Alanna Doering, at 31, was still very young and attractive.  Pleasantly zaftig, she also had a large face with generous planes that suggested the maturity that would make her sufficiently believable as Gertrude.  Given the procreative rules of twelfth century Denmark there was no reason that Gertrude be any older than forty-six or seven.  Her long very curly hair was presently black but her coloring (and her roots) suggested she was originally a red-head.  She would probably not object to returning to her original color.  Especially as it would create a more striking contrast with Mark Jefferson, her Claudius.  The fact that he had manipulated the seating to take the seat next to her suggested the readings tonight had produced the beginnings of a certain bonding.

At 35 Jason Bogardus was the “grandfather” of the group.  His face somewhat suggested that of an amiable bassett hound.  His thinning hair, cropped short perhaps to hide the fact that there was more gray than a blonde would ordinarily have at his age would align him visually with Ian, his “son,” Laertes.

Juana Delgado completed the group.  She didn’t seem best pleased to be seated either on the banquette on Maggie’s left side or next to Jason.  At twenty-eight her dark hair, flashing eyes, slight accent suggesting an Hispanic heritage coupled with a truly awesome emotional facility and command of Shakespeare had not been sufficient to start a significant career.  Having returned to school for second tier training she alone seemed discouraged at the prospect of three years of development, but this time as a director.  Of course her role as the grave-digger did not give her a clear companion in the graduate cast but allowing her the experience of working with the students in the company she would be writing for would be a significant advantage.  And she was naturally too attractive a young woman to have much difficulty making friends across time.  She would warrant a little extra attention for the next several weeks.  While she had mused on her new brood and her casting choices, the conversation had eddied around her in fits and starts.  Her musing was interrupted by Jay’s return.
       
“Thanks, Jay.  Oh, could we have some peanuts or chips or something?  Thanks.”

Sure thing,  I’ve just gotten in a new shipment of the hot crunchy mix you like.  How about that and the milder blend and a big bowl of peanuts?”

“Sounds good.  How long till last call?”

“About forty-five minutes.”

“That’s about what we’ll need.  Thanks for everything.”


Thursday, July 4, 2013

Betsy McGee Forester Day--The New Word

A New Word

 

That evening while walking home from the drugstore with two new tablets for printing practice, Betsy thought about a way to talk to her mother about words.  Maggie had a Word-a-Day calendar, and got a word a day on her cell-phone. 


“Mama,” she said, skipping along to keep pace with her mother’s longer strides, “what was your word today?”

“Oh, honey, I didn’t check.  I was so busy trying to meet a deadline.”

“Well, do you have your phone with you?”

“Yes.”

“So you can find out now what the word for today is.”

“OK.  Let’s see. . . “  The app was very fast.  “Oh, swee’pea, I don’t think you will find it very interesting.  It’s a really long one and people don’t use it very often.”

“Well, just say it and I’ll see.”

“OK . . .  ante  de  luv ee an.  Antedeluvian.”

“Let me try!  Aunty de lu . . . what?”

“Vian.  Antedelu-vian.”

“Auntie de luvian.  Right?”

“Oh, honey, that’s right!  That’s a long long word for a little girl.”

“I’m almost four,” she reminded her.

“Yes, but that’s still a little girl to use such a big word.”

“Well, what’s it mean?”

“It means a long time ago.”

“Why don’t people just say, ‘a long time ago?’”  Betsy said.  And what does ‘a long time ago’ have to do with aunts?”

Mama looked perplexed.  It doesn’t have anything to do with . . .  oh, I see.  This isn’t an Auntie like Auntie Hazel or antey like . . . little ants.  It’s a word by itself that means ‘before.’”

“Before?  Before what?”

“Before . . . the flood.”

“Which flood?  The one in Iowa?”  (Betsy didn’t know where Iowa was, but she heard about the bad flood they had on the news.  She had worried about it but her Daddy had said not to worry.  That Iowa was hundreds of miles away.  She didn’t know how far that was but Daddy made it sound really far.)

“No, not that one.”

“Why, not?”

“Well, that wasn’t a long long time ago.”

“What is a long long time ago mean, ‘zackly?”

“It depends on your point of view, I guess.”  Mama saw that Betsy didn’t understand what she meant.  “When I was your age on Monday I thought last week was a long time ago and that Christmas was a long loooooong time ago.  Now . . . a long time ago was the time before you were born and a long long time ago is when I was a little girl your age.”

“So the long long time ago flood happened when you were a little girl?”

“No . . . “  Mama was tired and it had been a long day and sometimes Betsy had more questions than she had answers but, she was proud of the fact that Betsy was so curious and no matter how tired she was she tried to be patient.  Betsy could see it was one of those times even without blinking.  “Remember when you came home from preschool with the picture of Noah’s ark?”

“Sure!  It was one of my favorites.  Even if Petey made fun of my purple giraffe.”

“Well, you know that ark is another word for a big boat.”

“Sure.  Miss Ebberling told us the whole story.   How it rained for a long time and Mr. Noah made a big boat to save his family and a lot of animals.”

“A word for ‘rained a long time’ is flood and another word for flood is deluge . . . “

“Dell yudj?”

“That’s right!  And deluvian comes from another language and it means deluge.  ‘Ante’ comes from the same language—Latin.  So, ante-deluvian means before the flood.’”  Sometimes Mother gave Betsy such a complicated explanation that it finally stopped her questions.  The reason was that Betsy finally had enough information for her next little ‘think.’”  And she started to do it while Mama thought about the illustration on her drafting board so they were both quiet but pleasantly occupied for the rest of the way home.

As soon as she got home she hurried to brush her teeth and wash her hands and face and put on her jammies.  It was very late—Daddy said almost 9:00 o’clock.  Betsy knew that was after her bedtime.  She’d have to think about the clock soon.  Her father had given her a choice between a bath (he was the Bath Master) or a short story.  Guess which she chose.

Once they were both tucked neatly in the big reading chair Daddy picked up the fairy tales book she had gotten for Christmas.  It had many stories, some long, some short.  All pretty good.

“Here we go,”  said Daddy.  “A long long time ago there was a little girl who . . .”

“Oh!  You mean in ante-deluvian time!”

“Antedeluvian?”

“That means ‘before the flood’, Daddy.”

“Really?  Good to know.  Mama been sharing her word a day with you?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so.  O.K., here we go.  An anteluvian time ago there was a little girl who lived in the forest with her mother. . .”


And it was a good story but Betsy was asleep even before Daddy turned the page.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The Last Meeting of the First Fifty Club, Scene 4



(Larry is briefly alone.  He takes a clean spoon to taste the risotto and ladles more broth into the pot.  Barbara enters, runs around the counter, puts her arms around Larry’s head and pulls down.)

BUNNY

Lean down, scrumptious, and let me plant one on ya!  (She kisses him on the forehead, the nose, and the mouth.)  When are you gonna dump Miss Tall, Dark, and Princeton and run away we me?  Huh?

LARRY

As soon as you’re ready to leave the loser with the Lexus.

BUNNY

I’m ready now—it’s only a KIA this month.

LARRY

Really?  How are they?

BUNNY

No, no, no! No car talk tonight. It’s a rule. One night a month—no cars.

LARRY

You got it, Babs!

BUNNY

You never call me Bunny.

LARRY

You’d rather I call you Bunny?

BUNNY

God, no! I’m sick of being Bunny. Babs is fine. Barbara would be even better.

LARRY

OK, Barbara.  Why?

BUNNY

I used to be fine with Bunny. My Papa named me Bunny. I useta love Andy calling me Bunny. And then I heard Karen’s boyfriend talking on his cellphone.  And he was saying, “Can you believe it, her name’s Bunny!” And the way he laughed, I knew he was saying , “Isn’t that a gas--an old broad like that, called Bunny.”  And all at once, it felt like every time people called me Bunny they were secretly snickering.  (She gestures to the freezer section of the fridge.)  Is it . . .

LARRY

Of  course!  You don’t think I’d forget?  Seven to one.  Onions in the fridge.  Toothpicks on the table.

BUNNY

(She Removes a jelly jar of clear liquid and a chilled martini glass from the freezer, onions from the fridge and sits at the counter to build her Gibson.  Then returns jar to the freezer.  It’s a BIG martini.)

LARRY

How are the children?

BUNNY

Nope! No kid talk either. OK. Charlie’s got an internship in the city and Chelsea’s building habitats for humanity with Jimmy Carter over break and then going to Nicaragua in the summer to work in a free clinic. How are yours?

LARRY

Fine. Working. Happy. You’ll have to ask Laura. She talks to them more often than I do.

BUNNY

Why is that?

LARRY

Because she calls them. I don’t believe in hovering. Besides Jared thinks I don’t approve of him wasting a Harvard MBA on a specialty bicycle company.  Tommy calls when he thinks that filial obligation requires it.

BUNNY

And how do you feel about the bicycle thing.

LARRY

Fine! He loves it and if they succeed in designing the next big thing he’ll be part of it.  And if they don’t he’s learning management from the ground up.

BUNNY

So why don’t you tell him that?!

LARRY

Because it’s much better for him if he thinks he’s acting in the teeth of my disapproval.

BUNNY

Jesus! Men! (She drains her glass, chugs and swallows all four onions at the end.) Well that’s one dead soldier!

LARRY
(Surprised she’s finished the drink already. Hesitantly.) Do you want another?

BUNNY

Hell, yes!  (She gets the jar from the freezer, brings it to the counter, pours another and throws in a handful of onions.) Gin is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

LARRY

Bunny! Those are seven to one.  Are you all right?

BUNNY

Sure, aren’t I always?


LARRY

Bunny, I’ve always said you have an extraordinary mind.

BUNNY

Damn straight!  I’m glad there’s someone who appreciates that.  (She drains her glass and reaches for the jar.) So . . . how are you doing?

                                                      LARRY

I’m fine. Same old, same old.

                                                       BUNNY

Larry, I’ve spent years venting about all of my problems year after year. It’s OK if you feel like doing a little venting.  I mean . . . I’m here for you..

LARRY

(Silence.)  Oh, sure. But how are you, really? Are you fine?

BUNNY

Oh, hell. No. I’m really scared and I don’t know what I’m gonna do and I’m drinkin’ so I won’t cry or maybe so I won’t get hysterical. I don’t know.

LARRY

Well, why don’t you hold off on the martini and eat a little something and tell me what’s wrong.

BUNNY

You made cheese straws.

LARRY

I did.

BUNNY

Just for me?

LARRY

Just for you.

BUNNY

(She takes the plate of cheese straws and brings it to the counter and starts eating them rather compulsively.)  Good, best ever.

LARRY

Barbara. . .

BUNNY

We’re broke and I’m not supposed to know.

LARRY

Has Andy lost his job?

BUNNY

No.  The recession hit us really hard.  Our house was under water for awhile and we couldn’t get a refi.  And cars weren’t selling for about four years there.  The only reason they kept him on is that he’s the best salesman they’ve got.  Now cars are having a really good year and we should be catching up but he just refuses to economize.

                                                               LARRY

He lose a lot on the stock market?


BUNNY

Jesus, no! Thank God we had nothing to invest. You can’t lose most of nothing. Until five years ago I never really paid attention to money. He handles it all—I use plastic.   And you know him and toys. Big plasma screen TVs and a walk-in wine cellar. A wine cellar! He can’t tell a pinot from Dr. Pepper. But the economy tanks and I started worrying. But I just trusted him. So, now that that he was selling better I wanted to know how we were doing. I sneaked into the checkbook and his bill file. We’re not just broke, we’re really in debt and he just keeps spending.  Last week I made mac and cheese and he got pissed off and made me throw it out and took me out to eat.  He ordered lobster!  He used to love my mac and cheese! It’s like now that the economy’s doing better he’s ashamed for me to know we’re in the weeds.

                                                         LARRY

I don’t know what to say.

                                                         BUNNY


Nothing to say. Take these away from me before I spoil my dinner. She hands him the plate of cheese straws as Andy bursts in.)   Larry, you know if you ever need to talk about anything . . .

My Front Porch: The Elements of Behavior 4-10

3. Facial Expression
The face is accurately regarded as the most specific, most complex, most telling expresser of inner life.  The expression of thought and feeling through facial expression is present also in some of the mammals, but to a much more limited extent than it is in man.  Perhaps that is because emotion arises out of discovery and the head contains all of the organs of discovery--the sensory organs of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. The rest of the body merely extends the organ of touch.  The eyes naturally express the emotional affect of a particular discovery that a stimulus to sight makes possible.  One may smile at the unexpected appearance of an old friend, for example.  The nose may wrinkle at the sudden onslaught of a bad smell.  The mouth may draw together in a moue of distaste at the unexpected tartness of an apple.  The ears may "prick up" at a frightening and unaccountable sound in the night.
Animals are, however, as far as we can tell, free expressers.  They use clear and truthful channels of expression and seem unable to mask or exaggerate or pretend their feelings as people do.  While our bodies can achieve these sophisticated strategies to some degree, our faces are veritable machines of such expression.  The face, especially among primates, seems to have enjoyed evolutionary development for expressive capacity as well as sensory intake.  Primate faces possess many muscles, the movement of which accommodates chewing, uttering, listening, seeing, and smelling.  These and other muscles are used as well to achieve a wide variety of expressions. Perhaps this capacity developed as an evolutionary acknowledgement of the utility of possessing a silent organ of complex communication.
All expressions, whether free, masked, or pretended, are created through the cooperation or the tension between muscles surrounding the eyes and those surrounding the mouth.  In a smile, all the muscles lift.  In sadness, all the muscles droop.  In a frown the muscles of mouth and brow often contract and draw toward the center.  In surprise and fear the eyes often widen and the eyebrows lift even while the mouth drops slackly open.  These are but a few descriptions of the simplest expressions of which the face is capable.  Often two or more emotions can be seen to war (or blend) in the face.  The eyes may frown while the mouth is stern, or vice versa.  There are expressions of angry surprise, comic dismay, angry embarrassment, and many more.
Paul Ekmann, the generally accepted authority on facial expression (see his The Expression of Emotion for an extraordinarily helpful in-depth discussion of the subject) has identified the seven expressions of emotions that are universally recognized and used by all humans, even those in the most isolated tribes.  The seven are:  happiness, sadness, anger, fear, disgust, contempt, and surprise.  Clearly there are any more facial expressions than these (10,000 according to Ekmann) but the rest of these are blends of these seven.  The thirty-seven feelings that we generally recognize as distinct have already been discussed in the section on Emotion.  The pure seven are those (along with confusion) that we are most likely to use as character masks to conceal our true feelings for tactical purposes.
As with all of the others, "working" this element of expression should never be a matter of pre-planning specific choices of expression.  It is necessary for the actor to be certain that she is free of any tension arising from her circumstance as an actor and that she is in all ways available to the particular expressive demands of her character.  She should decide whether her character is, in general, a highly expressive or a less so.  She should also decide whether her general tendency in the circumstances of the scene would be toward free expression, masking, exaggeration, or pretense.  She must be particularly attentive to all discoveries, for those will be the moments which will have the greatest tendency to change not just individual expressions but the expressive strategy which they have heretofore adopted.  It is impossible to do this subject justice within the limits of this text, but it is not as necessary to do so as it is with some of the other elements of behavior because we are ordinarily far more aware of our expressions and more consciously reading the expressions of others than we are with any other element.  We are already conscious of having control of our expressions and using them to our advantage.

Exercise:  Observe two people whom you do not know well interacting in a public place for five minutes.  With what kind of facial expressions do they greet each other at the outset of the interchange?  What are the gross changes in facial expression you can detect during the course of the interaction?  Can you identify each of them as signifying a particular emotion?  How do you interpret their relationship based on those changes?

4. Listening
At a later time we will address the different kinds of listening as internal states of being.  Here we must consider listening as physical expression or behavior.  It is not enough to merely listen from "inside the head".  If it is to appear truthful, the particular form and quality of the listening must be reflected in the visible mechanism.  There are six kinds of listening and each of them takes a variety of physical forms depending on the character:  1) antipathetic listening, 2) ignoring, 3) pretended, 4) selective listening, 5) attentive listening, and 6) empathetic listening.
Without any attempt to be exhaustive, the following are some examples of the physical expression of listening.  For example, when listening in the dark, one may turn the head in the direction of the sound.  This is usually accompanied by "quadranting" the eyes in that direction.  Often, when listening to ideas that are difficult and very abstract, one may listen with head lowered and eyes closed.  Pretended listening (frequently practiced in class or church) is characterized by eye contact, head on one side, indicating interest, and a nod of agreement with what is being said.  When one is engaged in selective listening, the eyes may turn to meet the subject only when a subject of particular interest is raised.  Often, in attentive listening and antipathetic listening, one listens as avidly with the eyes as with the ears and with an almost unbroken gaze, seeking to find as many visual cues as possible as an aid to understanding.  The antipathetic listener will watch as avidly but with a clear expression of cynical distrust.  The empathetic listener will tend to mirror the expressions worn by the speaker and follow their moment-to-moment changes throughout.
Except in those instances in which the positioning of the ears in the direction of the speaker is a critical issue, listening is not something that can be seen in a particular physical manifestation.  It will, rather, act as a qualifier of all of the other elements of behavior.  It must be remembered and attended to, however, when working through all of the other elements.

Exercise:  Observe two people, whom you do not know well, interacting in a public place for five minutes. Can you tell by their behavior how attentive each is to the other.  How does that vary during the course of the interaction?   What behavioral choices signify the particular attitude in their listening?

5.  Gaze
When compared to the gross movements of proxemic adjustment, positioning, and even facial expression, gaze is a much more subtle pattern of physical action.  In terms of meaning, however, its significance often exceeds all the others.   While we are often unconscious that we are doing it, we are extremely adroit at reading the meaning of each other's gaze.  In an acting class, a student once remarked that he had discovered that, at a party, if an unfamiliar young woman met and held his gaze for five seconds, he could be confident that she was open to exploring an intimate connection.  The other students confirmed the accuracy of his impression.  This was, perhaps, his tacit understanding that, since "staring at strangers" is considered rude in our society and that because women are especially fearful of being thought "forward", he might appropriately interpret her commission of such a social breech as signaling a clear (if unspoken) expression of interest.  Friends, of course, are expected to greet each other with prolonged eye contact when they recognize each other.  If a friend who recognized us on a street then hurriedly averted her eyes we would feel entitled to feel insulted.
The bold gaze, the shy glance, the gaze averted in shame, the gaze turned inward in reflection can all be read quite specifically at a distance as signifying very particular inner states.  There are two sets of variables always at work in the physical behavior of gaze.  We can only look at or away from the others in our company.  As we have said before, we may gaze at an object of affection or of hatred.  We may look away from someone as an act of rejection or of trust.  The difference may be seen in the physical gestus, the gestures, and the facial expressions that accompany each action.  The difference may also be seen in the frequency with which we turn toward or away from the other as well as the quality of movement by which our shift in gaze is achieved.
At the same time as we direct our gaze toward or away from another, our focus may be either outward or inward. Often when we are considering something deeply we may turn toward the ground, the sky, or seem to be gazing at the middle distance.  In these instances the focus is "soft" because the gaze is actually turned inward to find the ideas, images, or words that best agree with the continued communication.  One may focus inward either while listening (in an attempt to connect what is being said to her inner objects) or when one is speaking (in order to find the best words to embody her thought.)  The meaning of that focus can also be read, but only in the context of the other physical behavior that accompanies it.

Exercise:  Observe two people whom you do not know well interacting in a public place for five minutes.  Do they look at each other when initiating the meeting?  How often does each look directly at the other?  Who holds the gaze longest?  How steadfastly does each of them maintain that gaze with the other? When not looking at each other is the focus of each predominantly inner-directed or outer-directed?  How do you interpret their relationship based on those choices?  Record your impressions.

Spend five minutes in conversation with another.  Vary your gaze deliberately from time to time.  Does this produce any emotional change in you or produce any other behavioral change?  Does it affect the behavior of your partner?  To the extent you can determine the purpose of your conversation, try to use the changes of gaze purposefully to achieve your intention.  Record your impressions.

6.  Vocal Gesture
Vocal gesture is the term we use to identify the intention behind a specific vocal utterance.  It is the tactic or action that lies behind and directs each thing that is said.  In "real life" it is impossible to speak without a vocal gesture.  All language is intentional.  Therefore, we must have a natural reason for speaking every time we speak.  Onstage, however, it is possible to speak without vocal gesture because the actor is not "making up the words as she goes along" in order to fulfill the vocal gesture but has merely memorized them.  She is able, therefore, to speak without any vocal gesture beyond the actor’s personal one of wanting the audience to think she speaks well.  The actor needs to identify the character's vocal gesture that the playwright intended as directing every utterance if she is to create the truthful (if fictional) reality of the character.  In communication theory there is an additional part of the inflection that is called the meta-message—the message that lies behind the message.  The meta-message is also a request for feedback.         
As we learned earlier in the discussion of the six qualitative parts of drama, the character’s thought is the formal control of the music of inflection.  It is the reason for which we speak.  Vocal gesture is, therefore, not precisely, a separate element of behavior but it is, rather, a behavioral control over the character’s vocal expression.  Sometimes the vocal gesture may be fairly consistent with the vocal expression. For instance, a mother who shouts to her misbehaving child, "Get back in here, young man, and I mean now!" may be using a fairly explicit expression of the vocal gesture, "Warn."  The vocal expression may instead be designed to mask a vocal gesture that is quite contrary.  When one opponent at chess smiles and says to the other, "Are you sure you want to do that?" the vocal gesture may be either "bluff,"  "intimidate," or "give the neophyte a second chance."  That is because, along with the facial expression (indeed, as an extension of it), the vocal expression is capable of freely expressing, masking, or pretending to a non-existent inner thought or feeling.
The vocal gesture can be described as an action verb that stands for what is truly thought and/or intended in every utterance.  The vocal expression is what expresses it, masks it, exaggerates it, or pretends to an entirely different intention than the true one.

Exercise:  Listen to two people whom you do not know well interacting in a public place for five minutes.  (Don't eavesdrop!  Choose a situation where it is permissible to listen.)  Select one of the agents and follow his end of the conversation.  Can you identify clearly the nature of each of the speech gestures?  How often do the tactics underlying the speech change?  How do you interpret their relationship based on those choices?

7.  Vocal Expression
Vocal expression is the actual music of the human speaking voice.  It is used not just to support the meaning of the words spoken, but also to contribute to the communication.  As with the other elements of behavior it is the outward expression of the internal life of the character.  Like the others it is not only capable of expressing the truth of that inner life, but of masking it, exaggerating it, or pretending an alternative truth as a tactically advantageous action.  (In the latter cases, the tension between the inner truth and the outer expression may express itself in vocal tension generated by the difficulty the character finds in dissimulation.)  The success of those strategies of concealment will be successful in varying degrees depending on the character of the speaker.
In combination with the words of the character, vocal expression is capable of conveying such a high degree of the character's communicative intention that media have been successfully developed and used which allow the vocal communication alone to stand for the whole message.  The success of the telephone and radio are the best examples of such media.
In addition to being able to carry the greater part of the burden of the intended communication with a high degree of sophistication, vocal expression simultaneously carries the "meta-message" that was described before as being part of the direction of the vocal gesture.  It is very difficult to describe the sometimes very subtle addition made by the meta-message with written words.  The grossest example with which you may be familiar and which you may be able to hear, as it were, in your mind's ear is the upward inflection at the end of a sentence that turns any statement into a question.  Used too frequently this meta-message suggests the speaker is unsure of himself and his assertions and is seeking the constant reinforcement of the listener.
Another example of the meta-message is the tone of voice we commonly describe as "sarcasm", a tone meant to suggest that the speaker does not actually believe the statement being made but, indeed, means quite the opposite.  The express purpose of the meta-message is, first, to convey the vocal gesture.  It is also always used to invite, cajole, force, or otherwise solicit feedback from the listener.  Almost all speakers general accompany extemporaneous speech with strong, frequent meta-messages.  Such meta-messages are necessary linguistic strategies because a person is usually most persuasive when he is able to take the listener's response into account utterance by utterance. 
So essential is listener response to a speaker's certainty that he is being understood and that his words are found persuasive that when the meta-messages fail to force feedback, the speaker's demand for feedback may rise to the level of language.  When statements are followed by such words as, "Right?" "Get it?" "Understand?" and the like, it may mean that a listener's refusal to give feedback (characterized by a neutral mask) has been interpreted as a hostile.
When one reads from a text or when one speaks memorized lines there is little natural tendency to use meta-messages. The reason is a simple one.  Someone else has written the words and therefore already has taken responsibility for their power to communicate and to persuade.  It is critically necessary that actors, who naturally fall into this category, are careful to give every utterance its appropriate meta-message, if they hope to create the illusion that the words they speak are being spoken spontaneously or, as Stanislavski phrases it, "now and for the first time."
All inflection depends on four sets of variables for its capacity to add meaning to the words that may be interpreted by the audience as reflective of a particular inner life.  These variables we characterize as "timbre," "pitch," "speed," and "volume."  The particular "voice" of the character is not a sterile medium of expression but results from his inheritance, breeding, environment, health, temperament, and age.  In short, all those qualities that reside in a character make themselves heard in the particular sound of his voice by the particular moment-to-moment combination of the four variables.

A.  TIMBRE
Timbre is, perhaps, the most difficult of the variables to describe in words because it does not have the same precise scale as may be attributed to the others.  Timbre refers to the ambiguous concept of vocal quality.  It may be described by such adjectives as "harsh," "grating," "gravelly," "whispery," "dulcet," "cooing," "oily," hollow," “nasal," "sonorous," and the like.  While every voice has its own general quality, it may adopt any of the others under the pressure of the circumstances of the situation.

B.  PITCH
Pitch in vocal expression refers to that quality of an audible tone determined by the frequency of vibration of the sound waves produced by the vocal chords.  The greater the frequency, the higher the pitch is.  Most healthy adults have nearly an octave of speaking range that includes thirteen discrete tones (a full octave.)  The extremes of that range are only infrequently used when under the pressure of unusually strong emotion (screams and grunts).  Most conversational speech exhibits a range of half a dozen tones, the changing amplitude of which accumulates around the pitch to which the speaker constantly returns as a medial position.  Ideally, this medial tone should be the speaker's own optimum pitch as the greatest percentage of voiced sound will be produced at this pitch. 
I.  Optimum Pitch
Our skulls have a number of cavities (sinus, nasal, and oral cavities) that resonate with and amplify the vibration of sound created by the larynx.  A glass, partially filled with water, can be made to "sing" a pitch when its rim is rubbed.  The size and shape of the cavity determine its pitch.  A human voice is capable of a variety of pitches, created by the controlled vibration of the larynx, but the cavities of the skull give the greatest resonance to that pitch for which it is "tuned" by the size and shape of those cavities.  That is, a speaker’s optimum or ideal pitch is the one he should utilize as his "base" or medial tone.  This is the tone from which his pitch will vary up and down to make meaning and to which it will habitually return.

An actor should work daily to exercise his vocal instrument in order to achieve the greatest range, resonance, and flexibility of expression.  Moreover, before every rehearsal and performance he should carefully "warm" the voice by exercises aimed at accessing, opening, and exercising all the cavities of the "mask" of the face.  That exercise should include particular attention to establishing optimum pitch and to warm those resonators associated with it.
One would think that people would habitually adopt the proper optimum pitch as a natural course.  Voices, like bodies, are amenable to influence by tension.  Tension usually manifests itself in voices by an inflection pattern raised appreciably above optimum pitch.  Extreme fatigue, ennui, and inebriation usually cause the whole voice to drop below optimum pitch.  Both limit the plasticity of the voice because the tense voice will lack expressiveness above its too highly placed medial tone and the slack voice will lack expressiveness below its overly low medial tone.  He will thereby also limit the upward inflection.  The amplitude of vocal inflection acts like a sine wave.  It tends to only go as high as it is able to go below optimum pitch.  The opposite is also true.
All things being equal, an actor is well advised to use his own optimum pitch for the character's to insure the greatest possible resonance and expressiveness and to prevent fatigue and, eventual damage to the vocal chords.  On occasion, however, the actor may wish to "tune" his optimum pitch a tone or two higher or lower for the purpose of creating a sound more suggestive of a particular character.  This must be done carefully so that no damage results.

       II. Pitch Change
The actor should always to seek to vary pitch according to no other standard than that which serves the character's purposes.  The music of the inflection must create both message and meta-message according to the character's point of view and she should use it to freely express, mask, exaggerate, or pretend an alternative truth according to that character's point of view.  No choices should ever be made to demonstrate the actor’s vocal range, brilliance, or beauty.   If the character would have an ugly or inexpressive voice the actor must produce it in such a way as to conform to the truth of the character without damaging his instrument.

C.  SPEED
What is meant by speed in speech is self-evident.  How fast or slow a particular utterance is should be determined by the character, his intention, and the circumstance in which he finds himself.  Because the actor must meet the obligations of art rather than life, the actor must also usually seek to stay within the bounds of comprehensibility.

D. VOLUME
The meaning of volume in speech seems at first glance to be likewise self-evident.  In this one variable, however, two separate forces are at work.  The one is character truth.  The second is the need for “projection,” the productions need for the lines to be heard at the back of the house.  An actor needs the requisite craft to resolve the tension between these forces.  He must be able to achieve the illusion that the character and his circumstance are alone determining the apparent volume of the speech.
The word "illusion" is used because onstage the two separate circumstances in which the actor finds himself have differing kinds of truth.  There are two separate "circles of communication" the actor must acknowledge, whose requirements must both be met.  On the one hand it is crucially necessary that the whole audience hear the actors.  On the other hand, the actor as character must seem to be speaking only to the character(s) to whom she is speaking on stage and with the degree of intimacy governed by the circumstances.  Every utterance must be loud enough to be audible to the audience member in the most distant seat, while being spoken in a timbre or vocal quality that is appropriate for the intimacy of the utterance.  The difficulty can be easily experienced—try to act as if you are whispering privately to a person close to you while being heard by someone 30 feet away.  Do this without sounding unnatural to yourself or the listener.  In this one element the stage actor is forced to act with great artifice to create the illusion without feeling artificial and false.  Many actors find this problem of the "projection" of sound the most technically difficult to solve and is only solved over time in the planned transition from rehearsal room to the stage.

Exercise:  Observe two people whom you don't know well interacting in public.  Choose one of the two agents and follow her side of the conversational interchange.  How would you characterize the timbre, range of pitch change, volume, and speed of her speech at the outset?  How often does the speech vary in at least one of these variables to a marked degree during the five minutes?  What do these changes suggest to you?

8.  Gestus
Gestus is a term I have adopted from Bertolt Brecht to refer to the physical attitude of the whole body in a given moment.  It is this "gesture" of the whole body that naturally reflects the person's sense of himself in the moment.  "Posture" is the common expression that comes closest but it fails to suggest the subtleties of which gestus is capable.  While the gestus is less easily read for specific meaning than proxemics, gaze, facial, and vocal expression, it is of particular importance because the body is less capable of unwavering control than face, voice, or hand gestures.  It is, therefore, more likely to "give away" the truth of the character's inner life than those other elements.  When it is seen to be working in opposition to those elements it becomes possible for the audience to read (as they do in life) not just the truth as expressed by the body but the character's effort to mask that truth.  When the body is operating in cooperation with facial and vocal expression, we are more able to trust the communication.
There are three principle sets of variables in play in the gestus of character.  The first of these is that of tension and relaxation which has been discussed earlier.  The second is that of expansion and contraction.  The third is that of muscular harmony and muscular opposition.  Variables from all three sets are present in every moment of physical gestus.
Tension is most often present in the body when a person feels at risk--the greater the danger, the greater the tension.  In contrast, a person who feels himself supported, protected, in the company of friends, or in the more powerful position will express that sense of himself through muscular relaxation.
Muscular expansion and contraction of the physical mechanism is usually a function of the character's sense of his status in the given circumstances of the scene.  When a person is very comfortable in the presence of another, they will often mirror to some degree the physical gestus of the other.  When he wants to exercise a degree of power over the other, he will adjust his physical mechanisms to seem as large and tall as possible.  When he wishes to appear submissive for tactical advantage, he will contract muscularly as far as possible within the social conventions of the situation in order to "make himself small" and non-threatening.
In general, muscular harmony can in seen in all of the muscular lines of the body flowing in the same direction.  Such a muscular flow suggests a high degree of relaxation and harmony.  Muscular opposition may be expressed in such variables as a twisted torso, hands pressed against hips or held stiffly at the sides, the whole body leaning to one side or the other, bending forward or backward at the waist.  All these "gesti" require muscular strain and therefore appear dynamic because they suggest high kinetic potential for a later release of that energy.  More simply, that means that these positions are hard to maintain for a long time due to the muscular strain, and will therefore require release into a new physical attitude.

Exercise:  Watch someone from a distance whom you do not know well for five minutes.  Describe the first gestus in which you observe them.  Describe it as fully as possible in terms of tension and relaxation, expansion and contraction, muscular harmony and muscular opposition.  What do you take to be their inner state based on the information of those gesti?  How often do they vary them markedly during the five minutes?  What does each of these changes suggest?

9.  Gesture
We use the word gesture to signify any movement of the body and its extremities (but most usually the hands and arms) whose purpose is either to make meaning or to support or modify the meaning of the character's speech.  These movements may be highly symbolic or more generally expressive of meaning and emotion.
The question of "what do I do with my hands" is one that habitually plagues not just young actors but all actors who have not found a way of satisfactorily solving the problem as part of the necessary design of the character.
Why it may be more of a problem of behavior than any other has never been completely determined.  Perhaps it is because, in life, gesture is less susceptible to our conscious control than are facial expression and the music of vocal expression.  Also, in life much of our gesturing is as much a result of nervous tension as it is a means of expression.  Our gestures are often no more than tics or general habits of movement and, as such, amount to little more than visible "noise", doing more to obscure meaning than to contribute to it.
Second, unlike our other means of behavioral expression, our hands and arms are "out there" where we can see them.  This fact may contribute to our being hyper-conscious of them. They may appear to us to indicate how well or how badly we are doing in the creation of character from moment-to-moment.
Third, most of our gestures are aimed at supporting our spoken words.  As we have seen, in the element of volume the actor is forced to tacitly acknowledge that there is an audience by producing sound capable of reaching the furthest limits of the auditorium.  Unconsciously we may feel that our gestures are required to support this volume, leading to the enlarged and inappropriate gestures usually referred to as "stagey."  (This is a further reason that projection is technically difficult.  Our voices and bodies want to be cooperating not conforming to opposing realities
Finally, since acting is an art and, therefore a condensed form, each gestural choice must expressly contribute to meaning.  The actor's choice of gesture for the character must be much more purposeful and contribute more to the pattern of character than they do in life.  Gestures may be symbolic and make meaning without the assistance of spoken words. The peace symbol, the thumbs-up gesture, the V for victory sign, the A-OK of circled thumb and forefinger, the forefinger curled toward the self two or three times in invitation, one forefinger rubbed against the other in the shaming gesture or tapped against the side of the head to signify stupidity or madness are among the many easily read by anyone belonging to our culture.  Gestures can be used to create descriptive gestures corresponding to the meaning of stories or to give directions.  These are gestures that we frequently use to give interest or to improve comprehension.  We can all easily imagine the kinds of gestures that might support such statements as:  "She had a great figure."  "The fish was about yea big."  "Turn right and go about 1/2 a mile until you reach the top of a big hill, turn left and you're right there."
More abstract gestures can be used for expository emphasis.  Examples of these include a wagged finger, a fist pounding the lectern or into the palm of the other hand and the like.  The gestures are intended to give force and importance to our ideas.  The behavioral element of gesture should be no more pre-determined than any of the others we have described.  At the same time the actor must give considerable thought to:
l) how much the character probably would gesture given her upbringing, education, profession, and personality;
2) the kind of gestures that would predominate in her general communication;
3) the effect the circumstances in which she finds herself would necessarily have upon her general style.
 
With these ideas in mind it is well for the actor to work to free her body of actor tension.  She must also find a comfortable “at-rest” position for her extremities, and try not to gesture at all until a true feeling arises out of the other work that a gesture is absolutely necessary to support the character's listening or vocal gesture of the moment.  Gesture is one area of behavior in which less genuinely is more.

Exercise:  Observe a person you do not do know well for five minutes in conversation with someone else.  How often does she gesture during that time?  What kind of gesture does she use most often:  symbolic, descriptive, or abstract?  Describe any gestures you found particularly interesting and explain why you found them so.

10.      Touch
Touch is the most potent and telling form of gesture.  To touch someone requires passing the protective barrier of space that people maintain around themselves.  Touch is gesture in its most intimate form; momentarily connecting one person physically to another and in its quality is highly expressive of the particular relationship that exists between the two people.
That we are extraordinarily sensitive to the meaning of touch is typified in the many nouns and verbs that we use to describe them specifically such as: fondle, nuzzle, pet, stroke, embrace, hug, squeeze, clasp, cling to, grasp, hold, massage, scratch, hit, knock, smack, strike, swat, beat, clobber, punch, club, sock, whack, slap, collide with, lean against, guide, direct, escort, maneuver, steer, shove, push, butt, elbow, jostle, shoulder, crowd, crush, pull, and drag.  Figures of speech referring to touch include: "The heavy hand of the law," "a mother's touch," "a lover's caress," "arm in arm," "held at finger's ends," "at arm's length," and "wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole."  Occasionally touch is accidental, as when people fall against or are pushed into another.  Most usually, touch is intentional and meant to convey a very particular message to the one who is touched.  Whether the message received is the one intended depends on the point of view of the receiver.
While touch is capable of issuing from a nearly limitless variety of intentions, the nature of the touch and its meaning will arise from five variables:

1)  the relative status of the two characters involved,
2)   the degree of mutuality of the touch,
3)   the part of the body used to touch,
4)   the part of the body being touched, and
5)   the pressure of the touch.

Status is a significant variable of touch because the issue of power, which is the inevitable by-product of one's sense of status, is clearly at work in the unspoken "rules" of touch.  In general, the person with the greater power has the greater latitude in initiating touch.  A business owner has a greater right to put his arm around the shoulder of his employees than the reverse, at least as long as the touch is free of sexual intent.
Status differences are often very situational.  During a physical examination a nurse has authority to touch the patient; the patient does not touch the nurse.  If, that night, Harry and Louise, no longer patient and nurse but members of the same country club, meet at the Christmas dance, either may ask the other to dance with fair expectation of the other finding the mutual formal embrace required quite acceptable.  As a matter of fact, their spouses might very well look on with approval.
Mutuality of touch depends on the degree to which both of the participants find the touch acceptable or even welcome.  Sometimes both can be relatively certain that the touch will be given an agreeable reception, as when a young man reaches for his lover's hand in a darkened movie theatre.  In other situations the "toucher" may be uncertain of his reception and approach its initiation slowly and hesitatingly, searching to elicit encouraging feedback before proceeding. At least he will do this if he does not want to risk giving offense.  However, when a character does not object to giving offense, he will touch unhesitatingly.  A policeman apprehending a suspect doesn't ask permission before slapping on the handcuffs.
Different messages are sent by the use of different parts of the body to do the touching.   Hands are the usual instruments of touch but one might use an elbow to nudge someone in the ribs, bump a hip against a companion instead of "slapping five", or use a stocking foot to massage a neighborly ankle under the table.  The same foot might kick the ankle of a dinner companion who has said something stupid with quite a different message intended.
Usually, when the body part touching and that being touched are the same, there is a suggestion of mutuality.  People shake hands with strangers as a matter of courtesy, but a stranger who touches a recent acquaintance’s face or knee or even a more private area is likely to give offense in advancing degrees.  The recipient is usually quick to challenge the right either verbally, with a gesture, a counter touch (such as moving an offending hand from a knee), or merely by moving away.
Touch is capable of an enormous degree of variability in terms of the pressure of the touch.  Its messages can vary from the inexpressibly delicate touch of a mother's fingers on a sick child's feverish brow, the killing blow a soldier administers in hand to hand combat, and a thousand degrees in between.  No words are capable of either the intimacy or the violence that one person can express to another in touch.
In all of the elements of behavior, the actor must strive to find an expression that is particular to the character as he is affected by his history and his present circumstance.  Point of view is always visibly expressed in behavior in the way the character apparently understands the rules of his culture and the degree in which he understands himself to be in conformity to or in rebellion against them.
While the actor should try to avoid pre-planning behavioral choices, after each rehearsal he should habitually review the behavioral discoveries he has made in the process of working the scene and critique them.  He should do this purely for the information they provide as to how his growing understanding of the character is being released into action.  He can then "save" for future use those choices that seem particular telling of character and abandon those that seem accidental, confusing, or of no help in developing the design of the character.
So far we have spoken only of interactive touch.   Self-touch is also a highly expressive form of behavior.  All of the messages we can convey to others through touch we can also "communicate" to ourselves through touch and more besides.  We can comfort and correct ourselves.  We can scratch our heads in bewilderment, rub our brows thoughtfully, wrap our arms protectively around ourselves.  We can also use self-touch to communicate with others.  Seductively stroking one's own upper arm may be intended to suggest that our skin is nice to touch.  When outer-directed gestures are not required we usually adopt a characteristic "at  rest" position (arms at sides, behind back, in pockets, arms crossed, arms akimbo, and the like.)
Touch in all its forms is a highly meaningful kind of gesture.  Finding the character's "at rest" position (which are all a form of self-touch) and the way in which he touches himself and others will go a long way toward finding the body of the character.

Exercise:  Observe two people interacting in a public place for five minutes.  Note how often they touch each other, if at all.  Note the partner who initiates the greater number of touches.  Note the degree of mutuality of the touch (how well the other accepts it) and describe how you were able to evaluate that.  Note which parts of the body were used for touching and which were touched.  Note the pressure of the touch and the degree to which it varied.  Interpret the relationship based on the absence of touch or on the character and quality of the touching.  These are the resources of behavior the actor has at his disposal in order to create the pattern of a character that the audience will recognize as capable of the choices and decisions the playwright requires of him.  In order to determine the kind of specific behavior that will be needed for a particular role, the actor must first analyze the character's "given circumstances"--all of the factual information the playwright provides through stage directions, what other characters say about his character, and finally what the character says about his past.