The Bella Maria process
Introducing Bella Maria
The Bella Maria process can be used as a starting point for improvisation. It can be useful in a theatrical context, or applied in any everyday situation where you want to be clear about what’s going on.
The Bella Maria process consists of three questions:
Who are you?
What are you doing?
What have you got to lose?
By answering these questions, you build the basis for a dramatic scene.
A role
“Who are you?” provides you with a role. This is a definition of who you are, regardless of what you are doing. There are a limitless number of roles. They might include: son, daughter, rebel, priest, assassin, butterfly, king, monk, acrobat.
If you’re the king, when you wake up in the morning, you’re the king. When you brush your teeth, you’re the king. When you go for a walk, you’re the king. When you sit on your throne and wear your crown, you’re the king. When you’re not sitting on your throne and not wearing your crown… you’re still the king. That’s how you can tell it’s a role, not a job. You’re always the king.
A job
“What are you doing?” provides you with a job. This is a definition of something that you do repeatedly. There are a limitless number of jobs. They might include: baker, jewellery-maker, writer, singer, dancer, fighter, explorer.
If your job is singer, then you a sing a song until you’re done singing. Then you sing another one. Then you sing another one. If someone wants a song sung, then you’re the person to go to. Because you do it repeatedly. If you stop singing, you’re not a singer anymore. Someone who doesn’t sing isn’t a singer, someone who doesn’t write isn’t a writer. That’s how you can tell it’s a job, not a role.
(A useful trick: jobs often end in “-er”. People often confuse what they do with who they are, their job with their role. If I ask “Who are you?” and someone says “I’m an explorer.” I tell them that’s their job, not their role. It’s not a golden rule, but can be helpful.)
A fool
Ah! This is where it gets fun.
“What have you got to lose?”
The most profitable question, as it is full of useful ambiguity.
“What have you got to lose?” can be a rhetorical question — more of a statement. The implication is: “I bet if you listed in your head all the things that you might possibly lose by going ahead with what you are planning, you would still go ahead with what you are planning”. And the message is clear: “There’s no real risk in going ahead with what you’re planning on doing.”
“What have you got to lose?” can be a question about obligation. You have something. It’s a burden. You must rid yourself of it. You have got to lose it.
“What have you got to lose?” can just be a question about what you have. A question about what you are full of.
There are a limitless number of things you can lose.
There are a limitless number of things you can be full of.
Fear. Stress. Joy. Peace.
Whatever you answer to “What have you got to lose?” becomes the fuel for the dramatic scene. The arc of the scene is the journey from full to empty. From joyful to joyless. From painful to painless.
A fool is a kind of actor. An actor that can take on any role, do any job, play any scene. Because the fool has no fixed identity, the fool can become anyone.
By answering: “What have you got to lose?” you get an answer to what kind of fool your fool might be for this particular scene.
Joyfool?
Painfool?
Stressfool?
Fearfool?
Fool of love?
Fool of anticipation?
Fool of big ideas?
Trying out the Bella Maria process
One way to try out the Bella Maria process is to gather together a few friends and tell them a story about something that’s on your mind and then ask them a question about it. Preferably some huge, juicy, long-standing conundrum or a drama that’s dragged on for years. Something that occupies every corner of your brain as you lie awake at night.
Each person then chooses a role, a job and a fool and you work through the question until you have an answer.
Originally published in December, 2014.
