Nina Jakobson’s senior capstone project Small Mouth Sounds was really awesome but I would like to bring light to the elements of the production that the last Argus article failed to mention. I was the only actor not included in the original article, or rather I was alluded to as “Kieran’s possible love interest.” I feel the need to bring justice to Nina Jakobson’s thesis and the intense work the creative team put into ‘Small Mouth Sounds. So, I sat down with Nina Jakobson to discuss the work we all created back in early March. In Nina’s thesis, they aimed to explore how the body can be an instrument for connection.

“I personally relish the importance of community in theater,” Jakobson said. This ties neatly into their thesis statement that, “The pervasive influences of technology and mass-consumerism in the 21st century have fundamentally dysregulated the body’s place as a site of connection, community, and change-making.”

Nina Jakobson is a yoga teacher, founder and leader of Ecstatic Dance, and active in the Wesleyan mindfulness community. In their directorial process, they centered meditation, yoga, and cast bonding. Nina Jakobson structured a meditation retreat before the semester for the cast to bond through self-discovery and meditation practices.

Before anything else, Small Mouth Sounds’ was an ensemble piece. Each time an actor was sick we viscerally felt their absence in our rehearsal room or scenework. Nina and I discussed the unique ways in which each of us rose to the challenge of this play and contributed to the rehearsal room. Chris was pushed to figure out how to react given that his character doesn’t speak English. Kieran was so dedicated and focused even though he had a concussion while performing. Max took on the responsibility of checking in on everyone and creating a safe (and very silly) rehearsal room environment. I took on responsibilities, including vocal training, to commit to an intense role. Eliza and Isabel had to operate as a unit in order to pull off a cohesive dynamic. Leo was challenged to react to the ensemble from a distance and speak right next to Tabitha, the stage manager, calling light cues off of him.

As an actor, my performance was mostly tied to the connections and friendships I built with my scene partners. Kieran and I played off of each other and our scenes were different each time. With Max, we had to work to build intimacy scenes together.

“We needed to create actual connections between actors before we moved into [the intimacy],” Nina said. Like most of our work, we choreographed and structured the scene before adding any emotions or acting. Nina had the brilliant idea of putting us behind a projector and making a campy, shadow puppet-esque scene. “I was hoping to create an abstract interpretation in order to externalize the inner turmoil of the silence. Suddenly the sound gets really warped and we’re in a state of chaos,” they said.

The intimacy work was labor intensive and required ensemble training from Professor Katie Pearl. Before each run, some actors were called to practice the intimacy, fight, and stripping scenes. The choreography scenes were workshopped every day, even before the last performance.

“Our work as a cast emphasized breath work and choreography and outside in work,” Jakobson said. As a director, they were operating with toolkits from the school of physical theater’s theories of ‘outside in.’ Nina treated blocking like choreographic scenes in order to paint pictures of connection and miscommunication.

Instead of analyzing the character’s emotions and mentally preparing to experience them, the actors focus solely on form. For instance, before I entered the stage I was working under the circumstances that I was very late. I would stagger my breath as if I had been running. Before approaching Max and Kieran’s cabin, I worked and wheezed my way into a frenzy in order to articulate my anxiety attack upon my entrance. Naturally, the mind responds to the body. You can trick your brain into feeling or thinking almost anything if you find the right combination of posture, facial expression, and breath. These skills came in handy for our moments of crying, fight choreography, vocal training, and intimacy work. These choreographic elements allowed me the tools to focus on my physicality in order to control my brainspace. Nina highlights this as essential to the storytelling of the piece.

“Just in the moment of eye contact and breath between Judy and Jan, I got so much story about their mutual needs for comfort,” Jakobson said, referring specifically to the scene with Judy and Jan smoking weed together. “We can’t help but create meaning and story even if there are no words.”

What’s next for Nina Jakobson? They say they want to continue moving, creating art, and community building. Their thesis was about building community through our bodies and it’s safe to say that each cast member created stronger connections with one another through this intense, beautiful, and physical process.

Elizabeth Laurence is a member of the class of 2025 and can be reached at elaurence@wesleyan.edu

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