Addendum, after the show

Still freaking out about living situation, but...Circa was great.  Again, amazing what the human body can do.  And then of course I was like (in my head), "Ooh, I got to work with her!"  (There are seven performers in the show, and five of them led the workshop last night, two women and three men.  At one point I got to do partner work with one of them.)  I have to say though, that my favorite thing was the hula hoop bit, it just looked cool, also the only thing in the show that I could even remotely ever come close to doing.  (Again, would have enjoyed it at any rate, but got more out of it because of the workshop where they talked about the movement language that goes into the choreography.  And again, that was open to the public and free, and did not fill up.  I think there was room for thirty participants... at the end, there were maybe 17.  On the flip side, I think I also got more nervous when they did stuff that looked dangerous.)  Fun.

Saturday

Oh, god.  Just finally read the letter from the management company...I know, I know, I just haven't been able to deal with anything extra lately.  Totally had my head buried in the sand.  I had spoken to them about it over the phone earlier.  Anyway, the gist is that we have to have a lease signed by April 5 (less than two weeks from now) or our rent more or less doubles ($411 to $795.)  Since I'm on break from school, I think I need to drop everything else and figure this out.

After my coaching session, I wandered around the International District before going to a gallery talk.  I encountered a rude clerk in a bakery and somewhat perversely tried to get them to like me.  I don't know if it worked, but it was better than being rude back, as I've been known to do (less now though, than when I was in my 20's.)  Again, in the gallery, even just a little background of the work made me enjoy it more.  It was meaningless to me without context...very (interestingly) conceptual, in the realm of sculpture/performance, tackling the concept of time, and how you mark the passing of it in a form.  But again, I liked it more in context.  There it is again, giving your audience an entry point.

On the way home, the bus broke down, so most of us disembarked and I had been making excuses of why I wouldn't shoot the trees today, but since I was less than a mile, I did.  The walk also gave me an excuse to visit this feed store and the urban farm animals that live there: chickens, ducks, chukars, doves, and enormous rabbits.  I'd been meaning to go see the rabbits for a while now, they are bigger than a small dog.  Also entertained by the feral pigeons that seemed to be moving in. 

I don't know if there was some other event going on, but the Quad was packed.  I've never seen that many people there before.  It was crazy.  Coulda' done brisk business if you'd had the foresight to park a food truck nearby.  Hundreds of people, like you'd expect at a festival with food and music, only just there to photograph the trees.  Then walked back to the University District, and it's quiet and empty on the streets, everything contained, not spilling over into the surrounding world, but magically materializing and dematerializing from that single point.

Saturday Crowds/L Herlevi 2014

Random Gift/L Herlevi 2014

King Street Station/L Herlevi 2014

Circus

Cold out.  Chilled from waiting for the bus, entertained myself by singing a Swedish Christmas song out loud while I waited (there wasn't anyone else at the stop.)  Surprised myself by knowing all of the lyrics.  I'm still cold.

Went to a circus workshop after work tonight, with an Australian performance group called Circa.  It was fun and incredibly generous.  Only 1 1/2 hours, but it was free.  We spent an hour learning some improv "language" in pairs, and then split the group in half and had one group watch as the other one improv'd in the space.  It's the tools they use to put a piece together.  I have a ticket for tomorrow night, excited to see what they do.  Also excited that I have something to share with the clown group I go to, stuff we can learn and practice.  I wasn't sure if I should sign up for the workshop, the invite was ambiguous about how much experience you needed (turned out you didn't need any, just a willingness to participate), but one of the dance professors convinced me to go, in fact, she emailed them...I'm glad I listened to her.  I finally signed up yesterday.  Originally, it was only open to ticket holders, but I think with so many students out of town, they opened it to the general public.  As it was there were only 24 of us, including the performers.

I have a coaching session tomorrow morning, so need to get my monologue memorized, it is mostly, but I want help shaping it, so I need it off book.  It's pretty short, 52 seconds last time we timed it.  It was originally for the general auditions (I had two minutes total to work with), but I didn't end up doing it.  Most auditions seem to use sides (from scripts).  I should work with her on that, too.

No closer on deciding on the living situation.  Mañana.

Here's a tree picture.

5:30 Light/L Herlevi 2014

Mostly for pictures

Equinox.  Mind blank.  Went into a drama library to find copies of the plays and could feel my brain perk up with excitement for the sheer amount of plays and related books, and I want to read everything, but since I can't, left with what I needed plus a potential play for scene work.  Actually have more ideas than I thought I would by now, hope I wrote them down.  Looked up rental listings as well...must depend on time of year, there were a lot, just have to make myself contact them now.

The Quad was crowded at 5:30 pm, the Thursday of finals week.  You'd think everyone woulda' split already.  Second picture is earlier in the day, trying to get a sun flare.  Slight success.

5:30 ish/L Herlevi 2014

Slight flare/L Herlevi 2014

Residue

Yesterday, the song that came into my head as I was re-reading Act II was The Winner Takes it All by ABBA.  This morning, I awoke from a dream that must've been a combination of all the scenes from last night, crowded with people, someone trying to keep me from leaving.  The residue of dreams lingers all day.  Looking at a piece of paper, the sound of hail, the ringing of a phone, triggers the same feeling.

Started reading "The Importance of Being Ernest," after work and then came home and the other woman that lives here was moving out, so now I'm stressed out again.  And cleaning.  And getting rid of stuff.  I really need to call the landlord, check on the monthly utilities (we aren't paying them currently) to see how much it would be to take the whole house for a year, I'll look elsewhere, too.  Just want to keep my options open.  If I didn't have the arm injury, I would be slightly less stressed about moving.  I can't bear weight on it, which means I'll have to get a lot of help to move.

Here are a couple pictures of the cherry trees in bloom, taken right before hail fell.

March 19/L Herlevi 2014

 

Trees/L Herlevi 2014

Winter Quarter's Over

We have twelve days off, but need to read a couple of plays (Hedda Gabler, and Miss Julie) plus find scenes we'd like to do for the final presentations in June, over the break.  Bunch of shows to go to as well, just realized I could get into both the shows I was trying to choose between with the TPS membership, plus the last ticket on my pass.  Need to figure out the housing thing as well...running short of time.

So, the scene went in an interesting and unexpected direction tonight.  She had us throw a bathrobe at each other, which helped to really deliver intent to each other, but the last three exchanges of text are: "You think I'm a, of course I do.  You think I'm a frightened, repressed, confused, I don't know, abandoned young thing, of some doubtful sexuality who wants power and revenge, don't you?" "Yes, I do." "Well, isn' that better.  And I feel that that this is the first moment which you've treated me with respect, for you told me the truth."  Well the last line, is the one where I was taking the meaning that it was over from, that there was no hope left, but when I did the former, he softened and put his hands on my shoulders (we were facing each other) and mind you, this is someone I've accused of sexual assault, so totally not appropriate, so I threw them off.  At which point I walked away and he started crying, and it all totally threw me off.  I wasn't sure what to do.  As a human being, and from working off of your partner, I felt like I needed to respond (more kindly) to it, but I don't know if the character would, so I didn't.  When I asked about it later, she said that he did give me a type of truth. (Plus, he does beat me at the end of this act, and with the history of the characters and his appeal to "my feelings" in this scene, it could also be a ploy, on the part of the character.)  On a side note, read yesterday that there was a different ending originally.  Harold Pinter staged that version in London.  I want to find it.

The play is about power, those who have it and those who don't.  I've heard a lot of people say it's all about the whole sexual politics thing, but I'm not seeing it that way.  I actually read Act II again today to see if I was missing something, but no, it's about privilege and power.  The accusations of racism and classism are just as important as the sexism.  And then he makes up his own rules, so, she's never gonna win in that world, the target, the rules are always changing.  I'd love to spend more time with this, but on to the next thing, and the next, and the next.  Class ran late, too.  Time to sleep.

Woke up (Wednesday) feeling a little guilty about the crying thing.  She made us sing the "tea pot" song after the scene in a bad accent to let the tension go. (I'm a little tea pot, short and stout...)

Tuesday

Thoughts and prayers to all affected by the helicopter crash this morning.

Flight/L Herlevi 2013

Almost over

In regards to acting, I remember a teacher saying about a year ago, that sometimes you don't know why you say a particular line, what it means, until the final show.  I'm getting there through reading it over and over again, and rehearsing, and discussing it with scene partner.  Last night I made the connection throughout the play (Oleanna-Mamet) of the assault charge, how one could take the words and actions and come to one conclusion, whereas to the person doing them, there was no connection in their mind, though, it would be a pattern of (questionable) behavior.  I remember distinctly, in the late 80's early 90's women (mostly) were starting to talk about this openly, about assault and what constituted that, "no means no," "I didn't call it rape," etc.  So, I can see how "Carolyn" can come to the conclusion: misconduct (words and actions) leading to assault (he grabs her in Act 2) leading to rape, on a continuum. 

Also, at the end of our scene she says, "Isn't that better. And I feel that that is the first moment in which you've treated me with respect, for you told me the truth." And after everything that has happened up to that point, I think she finally realizes that 1) he doesn't care; 2) he thinks she's "full of hatred;" and 3) there is no hope, he's not gonna see the light and change.  She won't save him, and even if she did, he will not give her the credit for it.  In that sense, she's lost, has nothing to lose any more.  It's like when a relationship is on it's death throes, and the two of you are fighting, and one person hopes that the other will see their point of view, and change.  Hoping that they can fight and disagree, but still love each other and work things out.  Hoping against all odds, only to realize the other person checked out a while ago and there is nothing left.  That's what I saw in it yesterday, and I don't know how to organically get to that place in the course of the scene, but that's the meaning for me now (for the end of the scene.)

Scene partner reminded me that I still need to come up with the secret, the one she tries to tell him in Act 1, but is interrupted by yet another phone call he takes.  Could do a lot more with it, always, but have to present what's ready tomorrow.  (We rehearsed last night and won't be able to again before we present it.  We managed to get both, locked out in the pouring rain, and we banged on the door for 20 minutes before he tried yelling from the alley-all of our stuff, including his phone, was in the studio, and then later left in the space when someone had turned off all the lights and locked up.  It wasn't even that late, 9 pm.)

Rainy Sunday

Feel like everything is disintegrating and it takes so much effort to not let that happen, to change anything, to stop the entropic slide.  I can't drop the class just because I have to move.  Things were already hanging very tenuously in the balance, the move just threw it over the edge.  All I want to do is sleep, but burying my head in the sand isn't going to make anything happen.  We have ten or so days off between quarters.  Yesterday in the workshop the facilitator mentioned something about setting a timer and working on one thing for five minutes.  That would probably be helpful.

The (audience engagement) workshop was good.  I thought maybe I would be an outsider because I'm not actively presenting anything, but it was helpful.  Before I went I was thinking perhaps there really was a difference between visual/music vs dance/theatre, because the first is often curated and you tend to get a story around why that choice was made.  I mean even when you see a band in a bar, they will often introduce songs, and in visual art, whoever curated made a choice of why they are showing this work and they tell you their point of view.  But after the workshop, I'm not sure it matters.  I think it's more that all parties directly involved come to an agreement on the point of entry for experiencing the art.  There were several steps in the process, but the last one, which I also like, and hadn't thought about was: what change do you wish to make in the "audience" by presenting this work?  We worked on this in groups at the very end, for about 20 minutes (this would be a much longer process).  My group had two Frida Kahlo pieces that she painted after she left Diego Rivera, and we thought about resilience and depression and so our entry point was "finding light in the darkness" and one of our audience engagement ideas was having people share stories of overcoming something in their lives, and the take away was that people would feel a sense of connection, both to others because they weren't alone, and also to their own inner strength.

I don't get the vote in Crimea to be controlled by Russia.  There wasn't freedom for the average person in the USSR (or maybe life was rosy, and it was the western propaganda I grew up with that makes me believe that, that is a possibility), why are people allowing this to be re-formed?  The Crimean people interviewed on the radio a week or so ago said they didn't want to be oppressed by Ukrainians because they were ethnically Russian...but it didn't sound like that had actually been happening.  It's fear-mongering.  They threw away an opportunity for self-determination, because they were afraid of something that might happen.  And now there is a nervous ripple throughout the former Soviet bloc that Putin will invade to "protect" ethnic Russians...like him or not, that man is shrewd, passing laws over the years to give himself unlimited power and to allow ethnic Russians to have Russian citizenship so now he can "freely" invade sovereign nations when he feels like it using the excuse that he's protecting "Russian" citizens...they could also be repatriated into (already existing) Russia without the land grab.  It's not about them.  Things are happening way too fast.  What's he really after?  We don't need another world war.  (My very surface opinion.)

Holiday

Tonight in choir we had a "chat" about re-dedication of ourselves to the choir.  Which essentially boils down to "respect."  Respect for the commitment we made to sing, respect for the ensemble (and one another's time), and respect for our own lives.  I'm very guilty of not being on time.  And that's true in every part of my life, except theatre.  And I realize that I need to have respect for the things I've committed to, and if I'm making excuses, I need to re-evaluate my life, and if I'm late or resentful because I'm over-committed, I need to drop something.  There's no point in being half-assed.  It is my life, if I don't respect those things in it, I'm not valuing my own time or my own life.

We've also begun work on this arrangement to the 23rd Psalm that our accompanist wrote.  Dissonant and beautiful.  Difficult to learn (no help finding the notes, you just have to have them), but oh so lovely.  Feel really lucky to be working with him.

Volunteered at auditions again today.  After the lunch break, they let me sit in the booth for an hour and watch the afternoon auditions, which included singing.  I love watching the commitment hit, the brave choices, the process.  And there was this thing that happened, this embodied connection in the singing or in the monologues. I can't put my finger on it, nor could I point out when it wasn't there, as much as I could when it was, and when it was, I wanted to cheer.  As a volunteer, you get a lot of access to the process, and you can learn a lot: how people behave, enter, transition, exit, write their resumes, what they choose for a headshot, what they choose to present, etc.  I'm glad that I took the time off to do it.

Did I already mention this?  I'm starting to connect as my character to the other character, I'm catching it happening more with this piece we are working on.  I don't know if it's because I've spent so much time with the material, or if it's the accumulated 220 + class hours we've spent so far, week after week.  I still have trouble trying to prepare to enter, and that's something I need to work on, but something has shifted, I can feel the difference in my body and how I don't feel like a lump on the stage as much as I did a year ago. (Then again, I have most of the dialogue.)  It's similar to finding myself suddenly grounded in class a couple of weeks ago.  It's as if the practice creates a new groove to follow, breaking old patterns.

At lunch I took silly pictures of seagulls.  Someone was feeding them cake when suddenly they all took off, and I looked up and an eagle was passing overhead.  It went on it's way, not paying any attention to the gulls or the people, and the gulls eventually settled down enough to land again.

Fountain, March 13/L Herlevi