GVPTA: Greater Vancouver Professional Theatre Alliance

~Trilby Jeeves

This January has been unusually busy. Therefore, I didn’t get to see as many shows during the PuSH Festival as I had dreamed of doing, but I was fortunate to witness “El Pasado..” by Mariano Pensotti. Ironically, unbeknownst to me, the only show I saw last year at the PuSH was by the same author, “La Marea” on the street in Gastown. In hindsight, I can certainly see a similar energy, style and observation of everyday life.

Everyday life – something we don’t necessarily see as dramatic, theatrical fodder to present. In the filmmaking world, Alfred Hitchcock quoted: “Drama is life with the dull bits cut out”. When I hear that, I suspect the “dull bits” are what occurs in the everyday, the quotidian, that aren’t featured in dramatic story telling. How many scenes do you see people scratching off their to-do list, changing the toilet paper, clearing the fog off the mirror after a shower, washing their coffee pot, ironing, writing a note, humping a pillow…..

Well, the last three actions showed up in “El Pasado” during the performance marathon of many characters, time-lines, scenes, narrative pieces, and all on a constant moving set akin to a merry go round. Hmmm… The Merry Go Round of life, perhaps?

AND, it wasn’t dull.

Many everyday moments were experienced as each character went through a 10 year span, revealing to us the twists and turns that can occur because of all the varied decisions we make. I sat there in the dark being reminded of all my decisions that had eventually brought me to the seat I was sitting in, that night. I felt a mix of melancholy and relief. Melancholy because I wished some of my decisions had been different, and if they had have been, how would my life be now? And, relief, because I wasn’t alone in the strange journey we are all on called life.

Isn’t that the job of theatre, or any story telling? To catch you, hook you, make you think, ponder, re-evaluate and/or even instigate a change in your path? Or, simply to be entertained? For me, I appreciate pieces that make me look inside.

This production did that for me. And, it excited me because of the tension created by a perpetual moving set. Not exactly a relaxing time, but certainly one that kept you on your toes. “What is going to happen next?”

At the post show talk back moderated by Kenji Maeda, several audience members got to learn some “behind the scenes” details. “How do you remember so many lines?!” was the first question posed. The cast laughed and said that was the least of their worries. More challenging was remembering the order of all the scenes, and keeping on top of the timing, especially with the screened subtext on either side of the stage. As an actor, I can imagine it would be devastating if you faltered on the scene order as the moving stage didn’t seem to have any room for error.

Other interesting bits from the talk back included finding out that Argentina has a strong experimental theatre community, which meant that as performers they were used to taking on new ideas and risks.

The show based on all the writer’s narrations was created over a period of about 9 months. (Hmm… kind of makes sense, doesn’t it?)
As always, after a live performance, I carry away a bucket of inspiration. I get inspired by the tenacity of performance artists and writers to explore, and eventually put forth a play that digs into our modern life. My friends who had never been to a PuSH Festival play were extremely excited and our conversation over our post show drinks was more than stimulating.

We look forward to next year’s PuSH. Keep PuSHing, please!

El Pasado information:
Author: Mariano Pensotti www.Marionpensotti.com
Cast: Pilar Gamboa, Javier Lorenzo, Santiago Gobernori, Maria Ines Sancerni

~ Frances Kitson

Last Monday, February 6, I saw Soul Resource at Studio 58, a Risky Nights show that is the culmination of five weeks of start-to-finish creation and performance under the guidance of Rachel Peake and Susan Coodin, both Studio 58 alumna. They built the whole show themselves: wrote it, designed it, performed it. It’s a smart idea on the part of the school: Risky Nights is an opportunity for fourth-term students to transition from their studio training into performance, without the pressure of a full-on mainstage production.

As such, it’s off-limits to reviewing. Also a smart move. Which brings up this week’s topic… reviews.

First, my perspective as an actor: I don’t like reviews. I don’t care if they’re good or bad, I don’t like them. I pretty much avoid them at all cost, but it becomes difficult when you’re producing your own show and are in need of publicity material.

That aside, the reason I don’t like them is because they are, in essence, a judgment. Even if positive, they are the opinion of one person on your work. It’s not that I can’t handle it when people aren’t engaged by my work or don’t agree with my choices. It’s that I want to hear that response in conversation.

Good criticism has the potential to be part of a dialogue. If, as Kenneth Tynan said, a critic is someone who knows the way but who can’t drive the car, then what if the critic is invited into the car?  In my very ideal world, that’s what criticism would be, and a review would not be a piece of standalone writing, but rather the culmination of a conversation between the critic and theatre practitioners, which would have started at the beginning of the creative process.

Ideally, the critic would come into the rehearsal process at the beginning. She would get a sense of the director’s vision or the creator’s intention, and then proceed to pop her head in, so to speak, every so often to witness the progression of the vision coming to life. Then, at the end, once she saw the finished product, the review would be a response directed at the creative team and outlining where the production succeeded in its aims and where it fell short. The critic thus becomes a partner in the process.

Is this realistic? Nope. I can’t imagine that anyone today makes a living from being a critic, theatrical or otherwise. A critic today is very likely to have multiple irons in the fire, all requiring monitoring and juggling, to mix my metaphors dreadfully. They may barely have time to see a show and produce a review before deadline, never mind sit in on the rehearsal processes of several shows happening around town.

However, can a critic truly evaluate a production’s merits without having background knowledge of the production’s aims? If you don’t know why choices have been made, can you fully evaluate their success or failure?

Possibly. If the choice succeeds, then they’ll feel it. If it doesn’t, then they’ll also feel it. What I don’t think they can do is to fully assess the production without an understanding of how theatre works. Back to Tynan: you have to know the way.

“Criticism isn’t about how you feel about something, but why you feel that way.” That’s a quote from music critic Alexis Petridis, and I wholeheartedly agree with it. Anyone can say whether or not they liked a show. A skilled critic will be able to articulate exactly why they felt that way.

A well-written review of a show can be a tool for theatre practitioners. So I stand by my idea: whether or not a critic needs to understand a show’s aims in order to effectively critique it, having a critic be privy to the creation and rehearsal process could very well facilitate dialogue rather than judgment.

What do you think?

~ Trilby Jeeves

Brush strokes, tattoos, video testimonials, life scars, legacies….. These are a few of the traces I pondered after watching Théâtre la Seizième’s original production “Traces”, directed (& created by) Craig Holzschuh and Anita Rochon, with collaboration by Gilles Poulin-Denis, (stage manager, Noa Anatot; set design: Julie Marten; lighting: Jeremy Baxter; music, Steve Charles; video, Corwin Ferguson) recently on at Studio 16 in Vancouver.

Coming from a family of artists – father, painter & potter – mother, fibre artist, I was always aware of the marks they were leaving in the world. I was in admiration of their visual contribution that will remain long after they are gone. It made me wonder about my contribution.

Then I got into theatre via the costume department, and eventually ended up in acting and directing. My joke to my family was that my art was a lot lighter. You didn’t have to box it up and carry it anywhere. It’s just me and a story. (well… that is if you aren’t on tour with a cumbersome set to fold into a van)

When I went to theatre school, en Français, in Quebec City, it was the beginning of Robert LePage’s step into bilingual, and trilingual original creations. As an English person privy to the methods used, (my teachers were part of his first huge success “La Trilogie Des Dragons”), the idea of creating a play was new to me. But, I liked it. I liked how we created mini pieces, and used the REPERE method. It was an exciting process, albeit, very challenging.

Craig Holzschuh and Anita Rochon’s creating challenge stemmed from a philosophical conversation years ago, and eventually, after much writing, engaged actors and wove their stories into the fictional tale.

“Traces” takes place in a beautifully clean, airy space, accompanied by artistic lighting & projections, perfect for the gallery setting and the complicated subject of art and authenticity. The lack of visual chaos helped to balance the twists and turns in the stories, and performances by Jessica Heafey and Joey Lespérance. We get a sense of four life journeys as we watch the two characters intermingle with the actors playing them. And, once again, we turn inward and relate to many of the moments. (at least I did, and I sensed my friend’s nodding head as she, too, was empathizing)

Théâtre la Seizième, the only French Theatre Company in Vancouver, took the risk of leaving an original footprint with this piece. That deserves a nod. And, I also have to thank them for displaying English subtitles (which I know is tough on the Stage Manager), as I was able to invite an English, non-French speaking, friend. This gesture certainly opens up a multi-cultural event for so many more to experience.

I still wonder about what creative ghosts I’m leaving behind. And, the truth of them? If someone asked you, today, what traces are you leaving, what would you say? And, how important is it to you to leave a trace, and why?

~Carmel Amit

We are stronger in numbers. As artists in a community we must stand together to grow and to flourish in each other’s light.

This was the GVPTA’s original inspiration in 1976 and it continues to be its driving force today as it grows, expands its horizons and enriches its offerings.

I attended the GVPTA’s AGM last Monday. It was not a huge turn out but the vibe in the room was exciting. Several very longstanding board members were stepping down this year. As a new individual member I was sorry not to know them. It was clear that their work and efforts were huge in bringing the GVPTA to where it stands in the community today. Also moving on was Executive Director Sue Porter. Since three months ago Eleanor Stacey has been the new Executive Director and my experience as a volunteer under her direction has been amazing thus far. Eleanor is working together with the board and many volunteers, what seems like around the clock, to continue to push the GVPTA into a stronger position in the community and to create even more benefits to its members.

With new projects such as the Unified Auditions and giving bloggers (like myself) a voice, with the aim of opening up a cyber discussion about theatre, the GVPTA continues to bridge the gap between theatre artists, theatre institutions and theatre audiences.

The GVPTA has also been making solid efforts to grow its membership. More numbers, more power.

Following the meeting I stayed to listen to a panel discussion on The Actor as a Business with Tribly Jeeves, Meghan Gardiner and Julia Mackey. These three fantastic women have grown their art into a business that stands alone as well as supports them as actors in the biz.

The three discussed issues moderated by Nathan Medd. They were energizing in their creativity and boldness. It struck me that all three women were doing what they love with passion and out of it grew a fruitful business that works to sustain them.

Artists live through their art and through art their audiences can have an opportunity to think about their own lives. This symbiotic relationship leads to growth. It is crucial that our communities have opportunities to make and view art. The GVPTA undoubtedly helps makes this happen for Vancouver’s theatres, their artists and audiences.

~ Robyn Williams-Dann

When I was asked to become a resident blogger for the Greater Vancouver Professional Theater Alliance I was stoked.  Not only would I get to combine two of my greatest passions, theater and writing, I’d be expanding my horizons.  Potentially seeing the kind of theater I generally wouldn’t make the time for.  That has definitely happened, with Duet more than anything else so far.

I guess I should explain something.  I have this weird thing about seeing theater or movies without any information whatsoever going in.  Usually one will have seen a film trailer, or will know generally what a play is about, before it starts.  Sometimes however, on rare occasions I will find myself in a seat, with the room going dark, and no idea what is about to happen.  I don’t know why I enjoy this feeling; I guess it’s the same sensibility that leads me into skydiving and world traveling.  The unknown is exciting!

So with these two experiences in mind (expanding horizons and entering the unknown), I chose all of the theater I would see for the season based almost entirely on date.  Not on the theater, company, or content.  And, on this night, I chose not to read anything about Duet for One prior to going into the theatre, and it was definitely an interesting experiment!

Firstly, Jason walked into the Jericho and the lobby and noticed immediately that it was filled with people over 60.  I think I spotted about 5 people under that age, and it was a packed house.  Hmmm, curious.  Our first mission in the Jericho is always to hit the bar.  Not just because we love wine and dark chocolate of course, but to support the company!  And at the Jericho you can take your drinks in, which is brilliant.  So, it was standing next to the bar that we saw a huge poster for Shoppers Drugmart health and pharmacy.  Curiouser and Curiouser.  Was Shoppers aware of the expected demographic of  the Duet audience or did this have something to do with the play?  Or both?  Hmm indeed.  Now at this point, with program in hand I could have solved the mystery, but as stated earlier, I prefer the suspense!

In we walked, taking our seats in the back, marveling at how many seasons subscribers there were in attendance.  Seasons subscribers to the United Players of Vancouver get to pick their seats first, I may have to become a subscriber myself!  During the curtain speech the first mystery was solved, the show this night was a talk back!  Great!  And then the lights went down.

Duet for One, as it turns out, is a heartbreaking and hopeful show about a woman who has been diagnosed with MS and journey she embarks on, lead by her psychiatrist Dr. Feldmann, towards some sort of emotional acceptance and recovery.  It is a nearly static show, with all of the action, six scenes, taking place on one set, between two characters.  It is almost entirely dialog driven as not only does it take place in one room, one of only two characters is confined to a wheelchair.  Yup, it was all making sense now.

Not only has the lead character, Stephanie been given a devastating prognosis, she’s a brilliant violinist whose career has been cut tragically short when the disease rapidly disables her to the point of inability to play.  Throughout the six scenes, we witness Stephanie flux between extreme emotions.  She deals with denial, loss, depression, repressed feelings, and the extreme anguish of a person who can no longer do what she loves, what had defined her for almost all of her life.

I have to admit; when I realized what I was getting myself into I was worried it would be a boring couple of hours.  I wasn’t emotionally tied to the content really, I couldn’t really relate.  A quiet Dr and a sad woman talking, just talking, seemed less than entertaining.  Thankfully, I was wrong.  The dialog was so emotionally charged, and the direction was so well executed I was not only not bored, I was entertained and asked to reflect along with Stephanie.  The questions Duet for One asked and the statements it made were relevant. No I’ve never been diagnosed with a debilitating illness, or had to examine my own mortality closely.  I do though have passion, and what if that passion was taken away?  Would I be the same person if my talents were silenced?  What would my purpose be if what I thought was my path was changed or gone?  It was heart wrenching and beautiful, this dance between patient and doctor, asking the question; is life worth anything if you can’t do what you love?  Can you change your path and find new love and new passion?

I’d like to thank the actors, Alison Raine and Graham Bullen along with the playright Tom Kempinski and the director John Murphy for baring their souls so that we, the audience, could examine ours.

In the words of Dr. Feldmann, the purpose of life is in living and for me that means finding excitement wherever I can.  I wonder what my next show will be?  Maybe I’ll sneak a peek at the title at least.

~ Carmel Amit

Theatre, painting, sculpting, photography, music, film, dance… they all inform one another and in turn the world. To understand one is to better understand the rest. They are linked through a collective subconscious and evolve in tandem with the developments of our world, and how we see it. This is a truth that I was reminded of and walked away with after watching RED, the Tony Award winning play by John Logan. Red is about Mark Rothko and the creation of the Seagram Murals. Mark Rothko took back his paintings and returned the money advanced to him after realizing that the Four Seasons Hotel (where the murals were to hang) did not have the sacred environment in which he wanted his work to be viewed.

Do we as artists create art for a specific audience? Can we or should we dictate who can see our work for fear of it being misunderstood, misinterpreted, hurt? Or do we create it for ourselves and for self-discovery? Within the process of creating art do we not learn about and make sense of our world?

If commerce kills art as so many artists claim, then wouldn’t showing our work to anyone at all be infringing on that very concept? Where is the line between having our work shown and enjoyed by the viewer and “selling out” or buying into the commercial art world?

Me? I think art should just be created. It is not my place to judge my audience or to worry about how they may or may not receive my work and what I had intended to convey. I am bringing this issue up because Rothko’s character in the play was obsessed with this question and he was full of fear and anger at the world because he believed that they did not understand his work or were worthy of viewing it. But as his assistant in the story pointed out it was Rothko himself who had the problem and I agree. First off, who was he to judge the people and their true intentions? Secondly, even if he had been correct in his accusations… then why bother making the work?

I agreed with Rothko’s opinion on art when he suggested that it is important to read philosophy and literature in order to become a better artist. To add to that, I believe that knowledge of other art forms will enhance any artist’s work.

Like his paintings which he felt ebbed, flowed and had a heart beat of their own, an artist needs to be viscerally connected to art and the world as a whole. Breathing in and breathing out in a silent discussion. One must learn to have the sensitivity to hear the heart beat of the world.

~ Frances Kitson

*Note: Before I get to anything else, I need to tell you that I went to the opening night of No. 2, a one-woman show from New Zealand (but set in Fiji) playing at the Cultch until February 4th. It was fantastic. Go see it. I’ve never seen a 90-minute solo show go by so quickly. One woman playing nine sharply delineated characters with precise and clearly defined physicality, skilled vocal work, and hilarious timing. And that’s hard, so hats off to Madeleine Sami.

 **********

At first, after theatre school, poverty was glamorous for a while. I loved acting so much that in pursuing it as a career, I was willing to make all kinds of sacrifices. That’s right – I would forgo new clothes, leak-free boots, and eating out, all in the name of my passion. I felt smug when I compared myself to corporate folk, with their dental plans and pensions, because I had something to live for! It didn’t matter that I had about three work shirts through which I rotated, because my soul was fulfilled.

But then the cat knocked my glasses off my desk, and they broke. And I didn’t have money for a new pair. Duct tape was an interim solution, but they sat crookedly on my nose and I started to get a welt where they dug in behind one ear. Then I stepped on them, and now they’re really crooked, so that I look like an absent-minded professor when I attempt to peer through them.

So I think it’s time to make some money. Plus – I won’t lie – I would rather like to get a new rain coat. One only feels so attractive in bulky Gore-tex. And it would be nice to be able to treat my lawyer and teacher friends to a meal, rather than scrounging off them all the time.

So. Money it is. But how?

And here I find myself confronting the dilemma known to so many artists of so many disciplines through so many years. Here, as I see it, are the options:

1. Find full-time interesting and fulfilling day job.

Pros:

a)      Money! Means for new glasses, new boots, etc., plus such mundane but awfully important things like paying off students loans and opening an RRSP or TFSA (because not only are lifetime pensions going to be a thing of the past for my generation, but acting is a series of contracts).

b)      I’ll look forward to going to work in the morning, and will leave work feeling energized.

c)       Stability. It would be nice to know where I’ll be working six months from now.

Cons:

a)      It might distract me from acting.

b)      If it’s full-time, it could be tricky to fit acting around it.

c)       Will it have enough flexibility to accommodate auditions, workshops, and varying rehearsal schedules?

d)      How much effort will it take to find?

e)      If it’s interesting and fulfilling, it might be the first rung on a particular career ladder, which might mean that the company or organization could want someone for the long term. (Though, of course, what is long-term these days?! Two years?)

2. Find full-time mindless day job.

Pros:

a)      Money!

b)      No fear that it will suck me away from acting.

c)       It will leave my mind free to roam over things like what my character might be trying to achieve in a particular moment.

d)      I’ll leave work at work.

Cons:

a)      Possibility of being bored out of my skull.

b)      Possibility of low pay, given mindless factor. Will it take me twenty years to pay off my student loans?

c)       Again – fitting in acting around the full-time factor.

3. Find part-time day job, interesting or mindless.

Pros:

a)      It will leave time for acting work and other necessary things such as eating and sleeping and maybe even having something resembling a social life.

b)      If it’s mindless, the part-time factor will make it bearable.

Cons:

a)      Pay scale. High-paying part-time jobs take some effort to find.

4. Go north for a period of time to make a lot of money.

Pros:

a)      Short-term suffering for long-term gain: I’ll pay off debts faster, incurring less interest, and give myself some freedom.

b)      Adventure!

Cons:

a)      Absence from the theatre scene. I won’t be in shows and I won’t see shows in my community. Apart from missing people and not having the excitement of performing, will that hinder my career?

b)      Possibility of being driven insane by bugs or snow, depending on the season.

All of this, of course, operates on the assumption that I won’t be able to earn enough from acting to do everything that I want to do: live comfortably, pay off my debts, and start to save for retirement (whenever it happens and whatever it looks like – I can’t really see myself walking off stage for good at 65). And I don’t want to shut my eyes to the importance of any of those. Given my family history, sex, and nationality, chances are good that I have at least another sixty years to go. Poverty as a young emerging artist is one thing; poverty as an elderly semi-retired artist is quite another and one with which I can quite do without, thank you all the same.

There is, of course, no right answer. There isn’t even just one answer; there are a number of answers, different ones being suitable for different times.

I’ll tell you one thing that I’ve learned, and I learned this from more experienced artists when I went to the Making a Scene Conference in November: the uncertainty of an acting career can be a blessing. It grants a freedom. Someone told me that my career isn’t a straight line; it’s an octopus. I love that. (I think it was Dawn from ActSafe.) It will go in all kinds of directions, all of which are okay.

I think it comes down to the question of what matters to me most. How much debt am I comfortable tolerating? For how long? How much comfort do I require? Would I rather take smaller projects for a couple of years while I hold down a day job in the city, or take no projects at all for six months if I were away?

And there is, of course, the glorious possibility that I could find some interesting, fulfilling, exciting, flexible day job that would mean that I could stay in the city, build my acting career, and not suffer pecuniary woes. Or could I even actually begin to make a living at acting?! Let us not limit ourselves!

It’s up to me, my friends. Onward!

~Carmel Amit

Traveling is inspiring. It never fails to expose me to new and dynamic things. Be it food, people, landscapes, languages and of course… art. Since 2003 Vancouver’s international Push Festival has been committed to bringing Vancouver some of the world’s innovative and daring performing artists. For a quick three weeks right here in Vancouver, we don’t have to travel in order to get inspired. Push brings the inspiring to us.

After moving back to Vancouver with my brand spankin new family, I quickly set out to discover and learn about Vancouver’s theatre scene. I was happy to find a vibrant and energetic community. The Push Festival injects new blood and fresh ideas to artists hungry for further innovation and newness.

Curated by Norman Armour and Katrina Dunn the festival stands to bring together groundbreaking work by theatre, dance and music artists from Canada and around the globe.

So far I have had the chance to See Amarillo by Teatro Linea de Sombra and All Mighty Voice and His Wife by Native Earth Performing Arts. Both shows were unique, genre-bending and thought provoking. I have been given a renewed creative surge and an energy to pursue involvement in creating original works. I was fortunate to work with several innovative companies in New York City and was a part of the creation process. I thrive in such theatre environments and look forward to finding such opportunities here in Vancouver.

Festival-goers can also enjoy nightly entertainment and mingling at Club Push on Granville Island’s Performance Works for a variety of less formal but equally experimental shows. They can also take part in many of Attack Lab’s talkbacks, breakfasts and events also presented by Push in collaboration with Rumble Productions.

The Push Festival not only introduced me to new artists but it brought me closer to the city and its artistic community. Old relationships were strengthened and new friendships were forged thanks to the shows, events and workshops offered throughout the festival.

~ Eleanor Stacey

It was mid-November, in my second week with the GVPTA, that I picked up PATA Board Member Sam Hull from the airport.  Sam and Sue Porter had been in touch about the possibility of Vancouver hosting a unified general audition process like the one that Portland Area Theatre Alliance (PATA) has held so successfully.  And in the last six years PATA had taken the process to an online format, having actors and casting directors enter all their information into an online system that is designed to create one-page profiles of actors all in the same format, making it easy for directors to find the information they want quickly and focus on the audition of that actor.

Sam and I stopped for sushi and a chat about the UGA process.  I was so pleased to listen to him – his confidence in PATA’s auditioning process, coupled with his experience coaching and working with actors had me quickly thinking in depth about what the Unified General Audition process could possibly do for our theatre community.

Sam related how it used to take 600 hours to get ready for the auditions when everything was on paper, but now with the online system, it’s accurate and efficient, and so the focus can be on making the audition days run smoothly and on ensuring that both the actors and directors get what they need from the process.  And it serves both groups so fairly: actors must pass a qualifying audition to ensure that they are ready to be a part of the general audition, so directors know that the actors they will be seeing will be people who are ready to work for them; and actors will receive feedback from a panel of casting professionals in the qualifying auditions so that they know what they need to work on to make their auditions stronger.  Sam offered examples of instances in which actors were using auditions pieces that were a bad fit, or in one case, a woman who insisted upon being accompanied by an accordion (and in fact, when the accordion was replaced by a pianist, she got callbacks).  The qualifying process ensures that actors are putting their best foot forward and casting directors are seeing what they are interested in seeing. Win win for everyone.

That afternoon, Sam presented an introduction to the Unified General Audition process to a number of representatives of Metro Vancouver theatre companies, as well as individual artists.  Eyes widened in the room as everyone started to realize how much promise there could be in implementing this sort of process here in Vancouver.  It has the potential to cut hours of administrative time for theatres, as well and offer a real savings to actors in transportation costs, time commitment, and in some cases, even lost wages from other jobs during auditioning days.  It also offers an exciting opportunity to grow community among actors and casting professionals, and nurture the intrinsic symbiotic relationship between them.

So, we’re doing it.  In fact, our qualifying auditions are now scheduled for February 16 & 17 (and if they fill up, we may schedule a second set of dates), and sign up will be open very soon.  We will also soon announce a workshop with Sam Hull to help actors make their auditions the best they can be.

The Unified General Auditions will be held in April, but you need to qualify to be a part of them.  Check out our page on the UGA on our website for more information, and watch our Member Updates on Monday for directions on how to sign up!

~ Celeste Insell (check out Celeste’s blog http://www.blazingstarchronicles.com)

I was racing towards having breakfast with the director of the show “Amarillo”– Jorge
Vargas. I was a bit late as the conversation between Kendra Fanconi (“The Only
Animal” theatre company – Vancouver) and Jorge Vargas (“Teatro Linea de Sombra”
theatre company – Mexico City) was in progress. I sat back to listen and I took notes
from time to time.
Jorge Vargas was asked about how the play “Amarillo” came together. He said he
started doing political theatre in the 1970′s, when he was at the Universidad de
Mexico. He was also moved by what had happened in Chile, with the collapse of the
Salvador Allende Gossens’ government in 1973. One of the first shows he did, entitled
“Histories in Jail” was the story of a writer whose book gets banned; and little by little
he loses his freedom in order to protect his book.

Somewhere, Jorge Vargas said he got “lost”. He stopped doing that kind of political
theatre. He lived in France for a while and he studied with Jerzy Grotowski (Polish
director and theatrical innovator); which led him down a path that was completely
wrong in terms of what he wanted to express in his work. It took him thirty years to get
back to where he started — back to a work like “Amarillo”.

The company’s method of working is to “create actions – not stories”. Vargas states:
“An actor who constructs, does not interpret- the actor is not trying to be dramatic”. In
other words, the work comes out of physical actions and how the actors interact with
the objects they bring into the process as they create the piece.

He used the example of how one of the actors took articles of clothing and with that
clothing he constructed bodies. In turn, this physical construction helped to create an
image of the dead. Jorge Vargas also does not like the term “improvise” because he
thinks that leads to “acting” rather than “discovering” things through construction.

When he and the cast were working on “Amarillo” they spent three months reading
and having conversations. They talked about the “kits” that migrants carry with them to
help them survive their journey: A back pack , running shoes, tuna, lemons, pain
killers, water and a loaf of bread. Men walk up to 80 kilometers a day carrying these
kits.

Jorge Vargas decided to use film in this performance piece in several different ways.
He used the “top shot” when filming some rehearsals to create a three-dimensional
world when it is projected on the screen; giving you the feeling of looking down on the
scene. This camera angle also creates the feeling that the actors are being watched
by “surveillance cameras” as the camera simultaneously records the live action on
stage. The scenes of trains and migrant workers riding on top of the cars, draws you
into the canvass on stage making you feel like you are part of the action. Images of old
1930′s movies during the depression flashed through my mind.

Later, the actors were told to bring in inexpensive objects to work with and that is when
the candles, water bottles and the sand became part of the rehearsal process. At first,
Vargas did not want to have the sand become part of the piece because he thought
the image was “too obvious”. However, the actors kept wanting to work with the sand
in many different ways, so eventually it had to stay in the piece. To me, the drawing of
the circles in the sand on stage, represented traveling in circles in the dessert, and
always returning back to the same place. To Jorge Vargas and the cast it also
represented the transient – the impermanence of life itself. In the end, we return to
sand and are blown away disappearing in the wind.

Another important part of the play was the vocal sound scape that was provided by
Jesus Cuevas. Jorge Vargas just happened to meet him in a small town when he was
auditioning some other actors. Jesus Cuevas, is an opera singer and the sound
scape he created, Vargas explained, was much like the songs of the black workers in
the Southern United States picking cotton. It is more like chanting. For me, listening to
this sound scape was like listening to the voices being carried in the wind.

I was also struck by the actions of the women (Alicia Laguna, Maria Luna and
Antigona Gonzales) — dancing, sitting in an intimate setting near the warm light of a
candle and meeting with a man (their lover, brother, a friend?). One woman plays
with the fire assuming dangerous positions — risking getting burnt– while knowing that
the man will leave her to scale the wall and cross that border, soon.

In the middle of the play the action was stopped to deliver “A Letter to the Audience.”
This letter was about the exploitation of land that was taking place on the sacred land
of “Burnt Hill”. Jorge Vargas goes on to explain that this location is where the
Canadian mining company “Silver Majestic Company” is conducting “open air
mining”; This mining is polluting the land and destroying the habitat of the White
Eagle, which is an endangered species.

The final sentence in the letter is ” it is not my problem” which the actor (Raul
Mendoza) delivers in english to the audience. Based on what Jorge Vargas said in
his conversation with Kendra Fanconi, I believe this sentence means that like in so
many countries, multi-national corporate greed and corruption helps to create a
situation where it is necessary to leave your native land and try to make a living
elsewhere.

The finale of the play leaves it up to us to decide what we must do to change this
situation. Jorge Vargas tells us that the work presents us with questions. We must find
the answers.

Thank you Jorge A. Vargas, Raul Mendoza, Alicia Laguna, Maria Luna, Antigona
Gonzales and Jesus Cuevas for bringing this amazing work to the PUSH Festival.