The Stages of Rehearsal – Tuckman Style

Bruce Tuckman famously laid out the stages of group or team development in 1985 as Forming, Storming, Norming and Performing.  I’ve always thought these labels were particularly apt for creative endeavours too, particularly the stages of rehearsal.

The first stage is FORMING.  Those early days when tentatively everyone is getting to know each other.  Bonds are made,  as everyone wants to be accepted by the others.  People avoid conflict with each other, in order to be liked, in order to get along.  Each group needs this phase to develop.

The second stage is STORMING.  People begin to say what they mean and feel, dropping their initial politeness in favour of confronting each other’s views.  Sometimes a cast will struggle to leave this stage, sometimes it is quick.  It is rarely painless.  I believe that the closer STORMING is to the show, the more energy is sucked away from the show.

In the NORMING phase, the cast works together effectively with a single goal – putting on the show. They now begin to work autonomously and develop confidence in themselves and the group.

Lastly in Tuckman’s scheme, the PERFORMING stage.  This is when a cast is performing at its best.  The cast is now working autonomously and sometimes even resists directorial help.  Dissent is common and sometimes intervention from producers, directors or even technicians can cause the cast to return to STORMING for a while.

Eventually, in a cast, there is another phase.  Mary Ann Jensen called it ADJOURNING.  I would say however that for many groups and teams who has ephemeral existences like theatre companies etc, they are missing the stage called MOURNING.

After the show is over, we almost grieve for the loss of our family. We have gathered, fought, rehearsed and performed, and finally we must mourn the loss of this temporary family.  We must also mourn the absence of the show itself that was born out of the group, nursed, wean and taught to crawl amidst this short-lived clan and finally brought to full adulthood by team work and dedication.  It almost takes on a presence of its own, expanding to fill real space and time. Then when it is over, this presence is suddenly gone, living only as a memory.

If you have ever been involved in a creative project, you’ll probably know this feeling. I know it well. Time heals it.  New projects heal it.  And in some ways, it is the best, to look back fondly and remember that presence.