London Stages

No wonder we all stroll around looking for a spot.

Lanscape training

"Training does not teach how to act, how to be clever, does not prepare one for creation. Training is a process of self-definition, a process of self-discipline which manifests itself indissolubly through physical reactions." Eugenio Barba.

There's this thing which is called "permanent education" - maybe this is a rough translation from the Italian formazione permante. The idea is great but the application differs in different cultures and places.

Learning it's like a landscape. Wherever you go there is some. Still, we have but one life and can't exhaust its possibilities. Landscape is ever-changing and ever-changing are the sights and the people looking at it. Man changes the landscape and can change his/her way of looking at it.
What about the other way around? For a landscape is a musical and spacial partitura (score) that affects our mind and body: the thought flows while body responds. This last is a big issue for me.

The landscape in which we move or stand still has a lot to do with what we are. I'm not just talking about the landscape in its strictly geographical connotation, but also the one made of our social and affective connections, the one of our working or interests field, the one in our minds.

I was born in a plain by a large river heading Est to the sea. You can see the Appenines sweetly growing South and you know their other ridge is looking at another sea. When the sky is clear you can see the whole crown of the snowy topped Alps, a loose embracing North and West. And even further the soft cradle of the Mediterranean and the European continent hood. There, where the 45° parallel ploughs through, everything is settled, no problems of horientation.
And in between and across, all those ancient remains of thousand lives and humanity. Monuments everywhere. They're so many you just get used to them and they end up blurring in your sight. Memories are taken for granted. Art is part of the lanscape and is taken for granted. There is a point when it becomes overwelming, for it seems you can't do anything about it, you can't add anything to it, for all those ancient stone are there to remind you something grand was done before you, and it was made so well there's no point in trying making more. There is no space. You won't even raise a point about it.

Well, I needed a new lanscape, so I left. And now that I've encountered so many, seems like I just can't get enough.

You can either choose to be in a landscape, to be part of it, or act in a landscape. That's what makes the difference of your existence on earth.

I trained a whole life to be ready to act in a lanscape. I tried so hard to store kwnoledge in order to make something out of it. In Italy I feel like everybody and everything keeps repeating that it's not enough, I should wait and learn more before acting. But it will never be enough, that is clear. It's been clear for ages. There are parts of the world where I felt I was given chances to try. It is my responsability not to let them drop off.

My present landscape some times is a desert and some times is an anthill.
In both there is room for one more ant.

What is your landscape?

Well it’s an awkward situation trying to travel light

I got something in my head
Something sleeping in my head
That I don’t wanna wake up you see
Something in my head
And my lazy little body
Isn’t ready yet to set it free
Well it’s some ind of hibernation
Who will ever force me out
With a polar bear up there
How am I going to travel light?
I got something in my head
Like a lion in a cage, starving wild
And I’ve ran out of meat
Something in my head
Something crawling like a snake
In my bed, makes me rip off my sheets
Well it’s an awkward situation
Trying to fight the jungle alone
But I gotta make my way through
If I wanna travel light

Lately I’ve been walking away, floating like a song in the air
Lately, I’ve been trailing away, I’ve been walking my way

I was standing on the edge
Of a mountain of clay
And I’ve got tired of wading through the mud
So I jumped to hit the ground
It was firm yeah it was hard
But I stood proudly up with my pain
Now I don’t care about the scratches
As long as I’m alone here, now
Broken bones but empty head
I made it on my own this far

Lately I’ve been walking away, floating like a song in the air
Lately, I’ve been trailing away, I’ve been walking my way

Rubbish, trash, garbage, litter & Co.

ME - So, what's the difference between rubbish and trash?

U.S.A. NATIVE: - Well, none. It's the same thing. But rubbish is the “British” word, and trash is rather American.

ME: - And what about garbage?

U.S.A. NATIVE: - Again, it's the same. It is used in both countries.

(Conversation in West Wales, end of July)

UK NATIVE: - I refuse to use trash. I'm English, for me it's rubbish. Then I love the [figurative] use of the word, like when you're not good at something: “He's rubbish...”

ME: - And what about garbage?

UK NATIVE: (horrified) - Oh no! That's American too! I don't like it!

(Conversation in Glasgow, Scotland, mid-August)

What's about rubbish that interests me? Besides the concern of how much trash we produce and its disposal, it's basically the question “Where do I put the garbage?” . Does it seem a silly question? Well, in the UK it's not. At least not when you're not at home - where the recycling system is more or less like in the rest of Europe.

But where do I throw my tasteless chewing-gum? Where can I get rid of hated paper take-away coffee mugs? Finding a litter in the streets of this country is like the quest for the Holy Graal!

The situation is no better in trains where you can find only two litter bins each coach (vs one each 4 seats in Italian trains) and jolly chewing&sipping Brits. Regularly a member of the “Train Maintenance Team” goes around to collect the rests of those enjoyed snacks from seats, tables and floor. What's the point? A bigger bin or more wouldn't be a better choice?

And outdoor too, please, put some more bins. Today I had a (again and always) hated paper take-away coffee mug at Aberystwyth Train Station - that is so small that just has one platform! I had to wander around about inside and outside station with all my bags just to find a place where to lay my empty cup. This is kinda surreal... 

Pleasure, wit, confusion and other reactions

As a spectator I look forward to be impressed, caught, delighted and amused. These reactions altogether are quite of a big goal. But causing at least one of them is already a good score.

So, as a spectator of performances at a festival named Fringe (experimental theatre, performance d'avantgarde), I expect to set some points and thus be impressed, caught, delighted and amused.

To be frank, it is a truth universally acknowledged that the Fringe is no longer fringe but rather commercial, but anyway I prepared myself even for disappointment.

Some big productions, like Told by an Idiot&National Theatre of Wales and Steven Berkoff's Oedipus, were of a high level, no big surprise, yes a great job. I think both could be our contemporary more "traditional" theatre, in different ways, both in a positive sense: the former made an interesting use of puppeteering and transposition; the latter had an mind-blowing use of the chorus -that revealed an undoubtful Lecoq's origin - although a little flaw in the graphic design of the backcloth, a remix between a Renaissance geometric perspective and ugly quotes of Dalì's landscapes (this I didn't really get).

A delightful surprise was "Snails&Ketchup", a poetic aerial dance piece, a touching story told by the body and mimics of fabulous Ramesh Meyyappan.

Ramesh Meyyappan in "Snails & Ketchup"

Analogue's "2401 Objects" is absolutely worth seeing, not only because of good performance and witty representation of characters and time, but also for the clever use of setting and multimedia. It isn't for nothing they just won a Fringe First Award. The only flaw (that might be me having missed the info) is why 2401 objects and not 2402, 137, 5, 446003 or any other number at random?

The interactive installation "What Remains" was amusing 'till the point where naturalistic acting without a fourth wall dissolved the charming of theatre fiction and turned my mood from entertained into perplexed. The play takes you into a playful and creepy tour through the world of a crazy Maestro obsessed by perfection: a series of chambers in the Anathomy Department of Edinburgh's Medical School were an easy guessed set. Such a shame we had to applaud to the bowing performer in the end. Unlike when you exit the House of Horror in a funfair, the spell was broken and no scary feeling lingered.

I had great expectations about "Wondrous Flitting", for the surrealistic plot seemed to be ironically playing with sacred & profain. Potentially mouth-watery. But no: in my opinion direction and acting style misunderstood the play. If I were the playwright I'd be quite upset with the director. Then I found out playwright and director were the same person (!). Is it always the author of the play the one who gets it the rightest way?

"Emergence" by the female group Pachamamas is still getting to shape but I couldn't help getting emotional with the theme: what happens to our family relationships, in particular between a mother and a daughter, when we choose to step out into the world and we're away from home? Besides their type of physical theatre is quite familiar to me. They are sincere and humble when treating a personal issue to tell a story.

"Audience" by unpronounceble-for-me Belgium company Ontroend Goed deservers a post on its own for it raised too many questions and went beyond the like/not like issue. Some time soon I'll write about it.

Enjoy Edinburgh!

Here's the list of what I saw. 

The Dark Philosophers  - Told by an Idiot & National Theatre of Wales

Wondrous Flitting - by Mark Thomson

What Remains - Grid Iron

Emergence - The Pachamamas

2401 Objects - Analogue

Oedipus by Steven Berkoff

Snails & Ketchup - Ramesh Meyyappan

Audience - Ontroend Goed

Edinburgh's Diaries - a declaration of intents

What is there to see at Edinburgh's Fringe Festival (5-29 August)?

LOADS.

(Italian translation: tanta roba! - Pt: bué!)

Without the precious suggestions of many friends I wouldn't have had a clue on what to choose.

The programmed offer is displayed in a colorful magazine that is bigger than my hometown phone book. (But the design is simply ugly).

There is also a blue and an orange version. No comment.

Booking tickets in advance, especially for big names or venues, is a good idea.

I wanted to have a look at the British production, especially in devised and physical theatre, but also seeing some worthy big company, some dance and whatever seemed interesting.

8 shows in 3 days + 2 visits to the National Gallery of Scotland.

Not bad, I'd say.

Edinburgh's Diaries

Edinburgh is the centre of the theatre world in August. (Or maybe is just the centre of British and English-speaking theatre scene.)
Performances are everywhere at every time. Free shows, street shows, big venues, emerging groups, dance, comedy, fringe, classics, musicals, whatever. Here is the place to be if you like live arts.

I have been walking around and didn't get to see much of the city. Have to came back. But with the right equipment. It is been raining since yesterday, 15 degrees more or less. My shoes got completely soaked and had to buy a new pair. Crappy food, fast food, processed food, pub food. Desperately need to have something healthy to eat.

Shakespeare is not dead and his offspring is in high activity.

London calling

(Left Llanarth to Carmarthen on 30 July by car. Caught a train to London Paddington.)

London's calling me but not as loud as when I was 14 years old, when I dreamt of moving to London. Quite a surprise finding a city with a low skyline. I wasn't really expecting it to be so human-size.

I spent a week wandering around, looking for temporary orientation. I'm staying in Euston/Camden area. Very central, can walk everywhere. I've been exploring the city mechanism, looking for "authentic" places, away from the touristic routes. In these temporary settlement, the first thing I look for is finding where to shop for healthy food. I guess I toured every supermarket looking for my substitute for Pingo Doce (PT) or Esselunga (IT). Not quite found The One yet.

London is big. It is so very big you don't really get to see much. But the landscape is everywhere, it has no landlord.

I got baptized straightaway into some local rituals like touring the pub on Saturday night and a restorative Sunday Roast, with some new Italian friends. (Back to meat after great veggie food in July).

London's weather has been quite fair - if not definitely generous - with me. Therefore I could digest and take a Sunday nap at the park, but had a hard time varying my outfits for I left all summer clothes for Southern European hot summers.

As usual, I had to indulge with my personal obsession: laundry. (I can't stand accumulation of clothes to wash!). Went to a laundrette and waited half an hour for my stuff to get clean and kept myself entertained taking pictures, reading and observing my company in the shop. 

London is a good occasion to get back in contact with friends I hadn't seen in years. Nuno is staying in Brixton, a jolly multicultural neighbourhood south-east.

We went to a Latin-American restaurant where we ordered our meal in Spanish and then had a coffee in a authentic Portuguese café: eventually a real espresso! E um pastel de nata para matar saudades...(Finally I got back to fluent Portuguese.)

Met another friend (Audrey - therefore, back to speaking French) in South bank (National Theatre) and had a very long walk to the Tate Modern and back, crossed Waterloo bridge and went up North visiting Soho, the Opera House and all nearby streets.

London is full of green areas and runners. Everywhere. My friend occasionally runs in Brockwell Park within an event called Parkrun, a 5 Km run.
http://www.parkrun.com/home
I have my running shoes with me, although I haven't been running since 2008 or so. I convinced myself I could do it. So, woke up at 7 a.m. on Saturday morning and did my little bit of exercice, running really slow (couldn't help it even if I wanted to, but I didn't anyway) and enjoying the view.

Covent Garden on a Saturday afternoon is quite a busy place. There I met Diana (from the Inov-Art program) who gave me plenty of tips I will enjoy when I'll have more time.

One last hug and many cheers to Kyounghee on her farewell party in Wimbledon (she's going back to South Korea). Another hug and a quick chat over coffee with Joyce (from Jordan) at king's Cross station.

And back to packing. Off we go to another adventure.

July in Wales

"Milano mi saluta piangendo e così mi prepara alla pioggia" (Milano says farewell crying and thus preparing me for the raining)
"Il pleure dans mon coeur/ comme il pleut sur la ville" - Paul Verlaine


Landed in Great Britain on 8 July. On the flyght, first encounter with British oddness (or humor).

A gadget for women: now also ladies can piss standing up!

A night spent in Birmingham and an early waking-up to be off to Wales.

A whole July on intensive training with Phillip Zarrilli in the Kalari Studio in Llanarth.(http://www.phillipzarrilli.com/trainapp/index1.html)

Working with people from all over the world (Austria, Canada, Jordan, Germany/Swizerland, Mexico, Spain, South Korea, Uk, USA...) and meeting great artists, teachers and new friends.

Veggy food, world cuisine, one fish&chips and many honey ice-creams in days-off in Aberaeron.

Italian memories in a huge cup of foamed cappuccino on a sunny day...

and a very low tide in the Ireland sea...

A temporary goodbye from the Welsh dragon in Carmarthen.

See you in a couple of weeks....