Thursday, 22 September 2011
La Iluminada
Mount Vernon, U Street, son zonas de Washington para la reconciliación con la ciudad. Entre M street y la 9th hay un callejon, Blagden Alley. Entras y sentados en la puerta de un garaje hay un par de tipos como recién teletransportados de Woodstock que hablan de Jim Morrison y cantan poderosas canciones acompañadas por una guitarra. Hay grafitis, ¡aleluya! y un garaje donde unos tipos intercambian golpes dentro de un ring. En otra esquina está Insomniac Design que es donde Rachel me ha citado. También es donde va a tener lugar su instalación viva el sábado en la versión local de la Noche en Blanco. No tengo ni idea de qué va pero siendo idea de Rachel seguro que es divertido y bizarro con un componente trascendental. Al llegar me invita a que eche un vistazo por el espacio que ocupa una planta baja y dos pisos. El último es una terraza a la que se accede desde otra mini terraza en la primera planta y por medio de una escalera de caracol. Según camino por el estuido me imagino que en la primera planta (donde hay una barra) tiene que ocurrir algo excéntrico y de manicomio. Por ejemplo que unos tipos con vestimenta elegante estilo Star Trek están diseñando inteligencia artificial mientras toman cócteles ultra narcotizantes y que en la terraza más alta tiene lugar algún tipo de ritual o sacrificio. No se me ocurre qué puede pasar en la planta baja. En las 3 horas de ensayo siguientes Rachel va desgranando la pieza y su deseo de que el happening ofrezca al público un recorrido simbólico de la muerte a la vida. El espectáculo se llama 'lit' o 'iluminado' y la iluminación o la oscuridad son elementos clave en la historia. En el espectáculo manipulamos la iluminación con linternas, luces de navidad y otros artefactos iluminados. Abajo, al comienzo, recibimos a los visitantes con una grandes linternas en los ojos como si fuéramos buhos o extraterrestres, o pirados. Luego creamos un bosque de haces de luz, gateamos, danzamos y yo tengo una parte donde improviso una danza de mono iluminado mientras un batería y un contrabajo tocan a mi lado. Gente sale de los armarios y cuentan historias sobre la ciudad y se relatan cuentos con sombras proyectadas sobre una puerta traslúcida en forma de tríptico que da a una pequeña sala. Hay un momento en que el segurata mete a alguien en el aseo y con la linterna y el cuarto a oscuras somete al visitante a un interrogatorio muy personal. Cuando todo acaba, a oscuras y con ruido de metales golpeando la barandilla subimos a la carrera al piso de arriba donde, efectivamente, hay caos y pintura, música y frenesí. Una mujer cuenta historias sobre un colchón en el armario, suena un chelo dentro de un cuarto de baño lleno de sangre. Al cabo vuelve la oscuridad y unas luces indican que la visita continúa en la terraza exterior. Desde allí se contempla cantar a una cantante en lo más alto de la escalera de caracol. El visitante sube y en la terraza de arriba se ofrece un ritual de respeto a los cuatro puntos cardinales y todos cantamos:
Hey ho, nobody home
Meat nor drink nor money have I none
Yet we shall be very merry
Hay un guión, y el segurata/narrador hace de guía para el público pero habrá espacio para la improvisación y el público decide si quiere observar solamente o si en cambio quiere participar de lo que ocurre. Creo que hay algún parecido entre lo que imaginaba y lo que es. Supongo que al fin y al cabo vivimos un año juntos y me gusta pensar que el habernos formado juntos hace que cuando miramos un espacio e identificamos su potencial, surjan ideas parecidas. Iba a escribir sobre lo talentosa que es Rachel y sobre todas sus otras cualidades artísticas y personales pero creo que la descripción es una buena tarjeta de presentación y así no me pongo muy cheese. Va por ti, chula.
Friday, 16 September 2011
Fat Flag America
Washington me recuerda a Rusia,
los niños con uniforme de corte militar, la cantidad de adultos con el uniforme
de guerra, las banderas, el sinfín de memoriales de muertos heroicos. América me lo pone fácil con los prejuicios: el que venga a hacer turismo
sin contactos locales se encontrará eso: poética de guerra y compras.
Bethlehem es el arquetipo de
ciudad decadente que un día fue el orgullo del país con su producción de acero
y ahora es una ciudad con aspecto de diva podrida, un Petrozavodsk o Metallostroi en versión Yankee y a lo grande. La fábrica de
acero es un complejo que se extiende a lo largo de 11 millas y de allí salieron
las vigas, tuercas y tornillos de los rascacielos de Nueva York, el Golden Gate
Bridge de San Francisco y el ferrocarril americano. La mayor factoría de acero del mundo después de la de Pittsburgh, también en Pennsylvania. Cuando en Bethlehem sonaba la sirena
entraban y salían ríos de portoriqueños, brasileños mezclados con los locales y sumaban hasta
40.000. Cuando a primeros de los '90 America dejó de comprar el acero de Bethlehem porque los
chinos vendían más barato la ciudad pasó de ser el orgullo de la nación a convertirse
en pueblo fantasma. Al complejo lo salvaron de la demolición y ahora hay un
casino lleno de máquinas tragaperras en el corazón mismo de la antigua fábrica.
Quisiera decir que es trágico pero las lucecitas y soniquetes con la bandera ondeando junto a la grua le dan un toque más bien melodramático. En las provincias al igual
que ocurría en Rusia se puede palpar el aburrimiento de la gente, quizás por
eso en Bethlehem hay muchas iglesias, sectas, congregaciones, hermandades y
centros espirituales de todas las clases. Las calles sin embargo son hogar de
un espíritu muy particular: lo grotesco.
Dos escenas cortas:
1)
Mujer gorda: ¡No corras!
Marido gordo (caminando a duras penas, un par de pasos por
delante): No estoy corriendo zorra
Mujer: (con odio y resentimiento): Sí que lo estás, hijo de
puta
2)
En una esquina del cruce donde estamos parados hay una mujer gorda, tan gorda
que da la impresión de que la cabeza se la haya reducido un jíbaro que pasaba por allí. Tiene
el pelo corto a lo militar lo cual ayuda a crear esa impresión de cabeza en
miniatura. Está en la esquina y mira al grupo con curiosidad, con extraña actividad reticular, sus ojos están muy vivos pero ausentes y
contrastan con el movimiento ondular y cadencioso del cuerpo. Me percato de su extraña presencia y se lo
susurro a Cecilie. Cuesta reconocer a una mujer en eso que por su movimiento vagamente recuerda a un
cuerpo humano. Nos mira aunque no estoy seguro de que nos vea. Cruza la calle
hasta nuestra esquina, sube por la perpendicular, unos pasitos. Luego baja.
Sube y baja sin rumbo ni intención. El instinto de vida sobrevive, poco más. Hay
tantos gordos(la palabra no hace justicia al tamaño) con pinta de locos que inevitablemente empieza uno por preguntarse si la depresión les llegó
antes de la gordura o como resultado de la misma. Los supermercados están
llenos de gente con cara de idiota, mejillas que se confunden con la papada y
rostros que delatan una sobredosis de tranquilizantes. Lejos de la imagen del obeso feliz estos son gordos que están jodidos y atiborrados a pastillas.
Deambulan por los pasillos con los brazos caídos, como inertes. A veces van más rápidos pero solo cuando
van sentados en esos vehículos mitad silla de ruedas mitad cesta de la compra.
Me dice Jill que sí, que hay decenas de programas entre series, realities, películas, concursos, dibujos y documentales que abordan en la ficción y la realidad el tema de la obesidad pero que Hollywood, por poner un ejemplo, trata el tema siempre con perversa benevolencia. Áma tu grasa, acéptala, gordito, no está tan mal.
También hay mendigos tremendos, gente que no tiene que para comer pero está gorda a morir.
Me dice Jill que sí, que hay decenas de programas entre series, realities, películas, concursos, dibujos y documentales que abordan en la ficción y la realidad el tema de la obesidad pero que Hollywood, por poner un ejemplo, trata el tema siempre con perversa benevolencia. Áma tu grasa, acéptala, gordito, no está tan mal.
También hay mendigos tremendos, gente que no tiene que para comer pero está gorda a morir.
Interview with Cathleen O'Malley
Cathleen
is 31 years old and comes originally from
the Washington D.C are. After training for 2 years in Lispa, in
London, she now works in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, with Touchstone, a
30-years old theatre company that advocates for a type of theatre
that is highly involved in the past, the present and the future of
its local community. Cathleen’s capacities at Touchstone include:
education director -designing the curriculum they teach in local
schools, writing teacher and ensemble member sharing the acting,
directing and choreographing of the Touchstone’s work.
We
meet at night in the rehearsal space of the barn where we live in
Little Pond. It’s past eleven at night and it's raining heavily
outside, most of Das Collectivnost's members have already turned in
to sleep but some come and go to the kitchen or the toilets during
our interview looking at us with the corner of the eye. Cathleen has accepted my request of an interview half
flattered half surprised. I tell her that this is my first interview
ever and that she should relax and excuse my clumsiness or excess of formality. She enjoys speaking
about Touchstone and the work she's doing, and she speaks taking
great care of what words she chooses.
What
makes you want to come to Bethlehem and work with Touchstone?
I have
always been interested in creating a kind of theatre with a social
consciousness and believed in the power of transformation that
theatre can have for kids.
Having
returned home after Lispa I applied for an admin job at Touchstone
that they were offering at a time when the company was undergoing
structural changes. When they learned that I was a performer too,
they offered me an audition for their spring show, which was great
for me. Inspiring people and helping them find their creative voice
is at the heart of the work in Touchstone and very much what I was
looking for.
You
said you’ve been always interested in education, how did Lispa
change your approach to teaching?
Before going
to London I had worked for about 10 years teaching theatre
performance, creative writing, visual art, in school programs and
summer camps, etc. Lispa had a strong impact on me with regards to
the benefits of structure. I think art teachers who have not studied
the technique of being creative fail children by giving them too much
liberty. I find that they are often afraid to give children too much
instruction because it might block their creativity. In Lispa I
learned the power of having a slight form or structure from which to
launch a creative project. What in our language we call a fixed
point. In USA the value of liberty is very important but in some
contexts it is often misunderstood. I believe in the importance of
having parameters so that creativity can breathe in the container of
the structure.
How
would you describe the process whereby a structure and parameters
provide a greater freedom than a blank page?
I think that
an artist who is aware of rules and norms has then the possibility of
breaking them as a creative act. But without structure creativity
becomes simply expression, a mood, something shapeless.
Can
you provide an example of how you apply that method in schools?
In our
playwriting class we might ask our students to think of an object as
a point of departure. Once we have an object we can then describe it,
compare it, contrast it, analyse it. We can talk about its shape,
colour, texture… Often more than one student will say: ‘I can’t
think of anything' or ‘I can only think of something stupid like my
lunch box’. We try to show them the importance of that first input.
After that everything is easier and so we may ask them: how long have
you had it for (the lunch box)? Oh, it belonged to your older
brother? Can you imagine how many places has it been to? It sat for
years in the basement covered in dust? Well now think of it as having
a personality, how do you think that must have felt? And so on…
Touchstone
works with mainstream schools, what is it that these institutions
expect from you guys?
Our subject
is teaching the creative process as a discipline: something that has
structure, a method, a technique... What we, the Teaching Artists
bring to schools, is the experience of working professionally in the
field. In addition it is also a chance for kids to be learning from
someone who doesn’t hold to the culture and methods of the
mainstream school. Most of the education in public schools is
oriented towards a test based methodology, where there are right and
wrong answers. I would like to think that our programs are a safe
space for kids to take that idea that goes through their mind and use
it for a creative act. Learn to listen to it. More specifically we
work at creating movement as a discipline. It is true that a standard
school provides physical education and time for play for the kids,
and if it’s a good school it will also teach them how to write
creatively and express their ideas. But what Touchstone does is to
bring all those fields together: in our classes we teach them to
create movement that is both expressive and tells a story, this is
something that builds literacy but also confidence, public speaking,
and a sort of kinaesthetic intelligence.
Touchstone
works in creating some kind of movement or change in the local
community. Can you speak a bit about it?
Over
the past 30 years we’ve done a number of
community projects, sometimes involving up to 50 or 75 people from
the community, organized around a theme. A few years ago we did a
project called Steel
Bound named in reference to
Prometheus
Bound. Steel has traditionally been
the most proud and accomplished industry in Bethlehem, the second
city in the country manufacturing Steel after Pittsburgh –also in
Pennsylvania. During decades, several generations of people moved to
Bethlehem to work in the steel industry. When the factory closed and
the work was moved overseas, for many people it felt as a betrayal
and a loss of identity. Steel
bound was an attempt to create a
catharsis, an act of healing through story telling. We used text from
interviews with the workers and the actors were the workers
themselves.
What
are you working on at the moment?
Well,
my country is currently preparing to commemorate the 150th
anniversary of the American Civil War which is something that clearly
still poisons our waters. The bloodiest battle took place in
Gettysburg, here in Pennsylvania. This state was particularly stained
by the events of the war so we decided to work on a project related
to the civil war and the stories of people buried in the cemeteries.
Our goal is not to make a history lesson but to find parallels
between then and now and at the same time connect what was happening
then and now in Bethlehem. Take this as an opportunity for people to
be touched by the stories of the past and draw meanings of their own
lives. We’re hoping that this piece provides a catharsis for the
community in the form of dialogue about those issues and how they’re
still at play. Or maybe the community will come out with a sense of
pride about how the people fought for a noble cause or maybe it’ll
reveal shameful things and that would be good too.
Social
change can have so many definitions. We’re interested in people
waking up to other people around and waking up to their area and the
identity of their region.
A
30-years old company
must have come a long way and may no longer have to face the trouble
of making a name for itself and other issues that a new company
faces. What are the challenges Touchstone has to struggle with?
Financial
resources continue to be a challenge. As the company grows, our staff
grows our ambition grows… We are a non profit organization and to a
great extent we are still depending on government funding and private
donors so it is impossible to be complacent because at every shift of
powers the government funding sources are a risk. In times of crisis
our private donations also get affected. Also recently there has been
a change in the artistic directorship so now we're moving in a new
direction. This is a small city so we're always trying to find ways
to engage new audience.
Another
challenge is the fact that when the company was born it was formed by
a bunch of people in their 20s or 30s: recent graduates, at the start
of their careers. Three decades later, the company has continually
reinvented itself, ensemble members have moved away or changed
careers. Now, only one of Touchstone’s founding members remains.
Most of the rest of us are in our 20s and 30s, a few are married,
most are without kids, but could one day. So I guess family and
changing goals among company members can create a tension as a
company grows. Also, the company is comprised of a wide range of
people and therefore we are not all at the same place of our lives.
That makes for very exciting and diverse creative work environment,
but it also means we’re not always on the same page.
You
have 3 seconds to define your country in one word
HUGE
What
does a person from Texas, from San Francisco and from Pennsylvania
have in common?
The
good life and the pursuit of the good life. This could be a universal
human ideal but it’s particularly cultivated in the States; what
puts people at odds is the difference of opinions about how to
achieve this good life. Is the good life a life where people watch
out for each other or where the government helps us out if we lose
our jobs or are sick, or we are broke, or if the road has potholes?
Or is it a life where government is smaller and individualism reigns;
these Contrasting understandings of freedom are at the center of
current political debate, and manifest in attitudes prevalent to a
great or lesser degree in different regions I think the idea of a
good life is a common desire and perhaps even indicated in our
founding documents, but which finds different expressions among
individuals. Another commonality? The vast states of Texas and
Pennsylvania, the city of San Francisco--and so much of the vast
American landscape--each possess an extraordinary natural beauty.
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