A ghostly shadow under a noose, sadness across the dark face. Light shining through the window, casting another shadow on the ground beneath the noose; this shadow looks like a cross. The image is dark. It would be unsettling without the word written in red along the bottom of the painting: "Suicide."
Dark shadows frantically running, fear in their eyes, frowning. The shadows are of differing sizes and shapes, but all nearly human--some clearly infants. An amoeba is in the middle of these figures, its arms reaching out, grabbing the shadows, dragging them into its embrace. Aboriginal Protection Board, the painting says within the center of the amoeba. Genocide, the painting says above the entirety of the scene.
A horse with a reaper figure jumps out of the desert ground. Bones lay amongst the hot clay. Human skulls. The horse is almost as ghastly as the face of the rider. The horse appears to be in pain. It hurts to carry this rider. The sky above the scene is a melted, dark, British flag without apparent borders. Tyranny, the painting is called.
These are just 3 examples of the Aboriginal paintings on exhibit in the Australian Museum. There are several more there, and nearly all of them are just as disturbing as these. They are recent paintings, depicting scenes about the invading British who in bringing order and civilization to Australia broke apart a lifestyle going back many thousands of years. Some are in direct reference to the Stolen Generations--a time in which the Australian government thought they could "cure" the Aborigines by removing children from their families and educating them in Western thought. This was against the wills of these families. It was not an invitation. It was forced. This took place in the 1900s, not ending until the 1970s.
This disturbs me, especially when thinking about the incredible country I'm in. My week passed quickly. I enjoyed it thoroughly. It rained lightly a few days, but not enough to be annoying. The humidity was extremely high and uncomfortable at times, but it could have been worse. Classes went well. The short plays took most of my time and I'm getting more and more excited to be working on them. I'm getting to do so much that I'd never be able to do at home. The land here is beautiful. I live on the edge of a nature reserve. Fantastic, beautiful birds visit the house every day. I am making good friends, forming wonderful relationships. This place seems unreal. It seems magical. And yet the history of it is so dark. It would be easier to swallow if the wrongs committed against the Aborigines were long ago, but they were not. There is still a large amount of prejudice against these wonderful people today. Bring them up with the average Australian, and he or she will have some preconceived conception of who these people are. They are still viewed by many as somehow being lesser, somehow being people in need of a "cure."
It is disturbing. This place seems like paradise in some ways. But it is not.
---
There was one painting today that was not so disturbing. A beautiful landscape of a valley full of lush, green trees spread through most of the painting. A blue sky hung over it and a light fog crossed it. In the lower right corner of the painting, three men were gathered around a small fire. They appeared to be happy. This painting seemed to depict this land before it was altered by the settlers. Before modernization. It was the only hopeful painting in the exhibit, as far as I could tell. It's not the world as it is now, but the beautiful earth is still here. The wonder of the world is still here. The freedom to gather with friends around a fire is still here. And maybe, just maybe, there's still some hope.
11 March 2011
06 March 2011
Walk. Mall. Tea Slime.
"Are you sure we're going the right way?" I asked Nick this question, as we walked... and walked... and walked... and walked...
"Nope," came his response. I stared at him blankly.
"Great," I said sarcastically.
"It is! It makes it more of an adventure!" Nick's that kind of a guy. He doesn't mind walking an extra few kilometers first in the wrong direction and then having to pull a big U-turn in order to get headed the right way again. To him, it's just a chance to see more, discover more. And that's just what we did today on our way to the Top Ryde Shopping Centre, aka the local mall.
Fortunately, today was an overcast day, staying around 21°C all day (that's around 72°F) without any beating sun. Occasionally a slight breeze blew our way, as we wandered the hills that split Gladesville and Ryde City. We were in no hurry. Going to the mall was purely to go see what we saw and to get out of the house for a while. Thus, the pace was casual as we meandered through the neighborhoods. We took note of the general silence of our surroundings. Occasionally, someone would be out sweeping his or her driveway, but that was the extent of the goings-ons for most of the walk. We saw hardly a sole outside of an occasional passing car. We came across bus-stops for bus numbers we'd never seen before--not that we were seeing the actual buses go by most of the time. So, after a while, we simply began to reassure ourselves: "If we just keep walking, we're bound to get somewhere eventually, right?"
Right, actually. We came to a larger street with much more traffic. After a brief moment of debate, we turned left and walked... and walked... and walked... Finally, we came to a man who was loading his truck with various items from his house. I walked passed him without a second glance. Nick, however, stopped and asked, "Excuse me sir, do you know how to get to the mall?"
"Just keep walkin'," the man said in a strong accent. "Yer 'bout half a k away, I'd say."
Nick thanked the man and we were on our way again. And within ten minutes, we'd found our destination. Now, we'd been to this place once before very briefly; Ross had taken us there, but we'd gone in one entrance and into one store right next to that entrance. So, it was an utter surprise when Nick and I turned the corner and found a long, open air corridor of stores with incredible iron and wood art decorations before us. We paused and stared for a moment. Both of us were in awe. This was a shopping mall, but it was a gorgeous shopping mall. We turned into the main building and discovered a complex web of levels, connected in some places by escalators, in some by travelators (escalator ramps), and of course some elevators. First we made our way up the nearest travelator, looking around in awe at the sheer magnitude of the building we'd entered. It did not look nearly as big from the outside. We then continued going upwards, taking a long escalator to the cinema at the utmost height of the mall. We had no intention of watching a movie, but we wanted to see what was on and we glad to see a fair selection of recent films were available. We returned to the floor below, wandered through a couple game and hobby stores--both of which were far better than most I've seen in the US, and then began to cross the building for the first time.
Imagine a gigantic mall with no two stores that have the same things. No, I didn't think it was possible either. Until today. This place just kept going and I felt like none of it was overly repetitive in the products being sold. Each store specialized in something specific. We wandered down a level. And we walked around for a while, discovering the entrance we'd first used with Ross--in the one corner of the place that doesn't show you how huge the rest of it is. We then went down to the next level--keeping track? That's 3 main floors so far, not including the cinema floor. Here, we discovered the food court, which we were glad to see had all sorts of different cultural food for decent prices. There was hardly a thing I wasn't interested in trying. Then, we entered one of the handful of supermarkets we had to choose from in the mall--that's right, this mall had supermarkets in it; fresh fruit, frozen meat, drinks, you name the food item, they had it. It was like a bunch of Earth Fares with a handful of differing items each were all located in the close proximity of the same building.
After Nick bought some tuna--he apparently loves tuna a lot; he was super excited, we head down to lowest level (before you get into parking garage territory). So, 4 main floors to this place--oh and did I mention the architecture was beautiful? This place was not only full of wonderful stores, but it was a feast for the eyes. Artistic and aesthetically pleasing. And there before us was bakery with cheap bread and pastries. But first we were offered free samples of sausage, which was phenomenal sausage; one bite was full of flavor that instantly made me want more. However, we turned our attention from the samples to the bakery. We each bought a snack: Nick got a chocolate claw--he said it was like a croissant filled with chocolate mousse, and I got a blueberry pastry--mine was essentially like heaven; that's the only way I can describe it. We then wandered around searching for potential drink options--this place had like 7 or 8 different coffee shop choices (none of which were Starbucks, thank God).
I finally decided on this interesting looking place called Chatime Tea. It had a list of its most popular items and so I decided to just go with the #1 seller: the Grass Jelly Roasted Milk Tea. Yeah, I know the name sounds disgusting, but it looked intriguing and I figured it must be the #1 seller for a reason. So, I got this tea, which was pretty good. It was similar to chai, though with kind of a grassy taste rather than a spice taste (in a good way). Then, I discovered the jelly part of the name wasn't kidding. Suddenly, I felt this weird, slimy thing in my mouth. I stopped in my tracks. I pulled the jelly out of my mouth with my fingers. It was a disgusting blackish yellow color--through the clear cup, it had looked like greenish leaves floating in the tea--I'd just thought it was tea leaves. No. It was legitimate jelly, mostly flavorless that would come up through my straw all of a sudden, because it was so slick that it created no more tension than a liquid. It was bizarre, to say the least. So, there I was in the most incredible shopping mall I've ever been to, drinking the strangest tea I've ever had, thinking of The Lion King: "Slimy, but satisfying."
And that it was. Though I probably won't get that particular tea again--it wasn't bad, but it was awfully weird. I fully intend to return to the mall, hopefully by a better route than the one we took to get there (we caught a bus back home after, btw). The fact is... that mall was the kind of place I would love to hang out. That's not something I'd say about most malls. I was amazed. Still am. It seemed like a place of fantasy. I look forward to my next trip there.
"Nope," came his response. I stared at him blankly.
"Great," I said sarcastically.
"It is! It makes it more of an adventure!" Nick's that kind of a guy. He doesn't mind walking an extra few kilometers first in the wrong direction and then having to pull a big U-turn in order to get headed the right way again. To him, it's just a chance to see more, discover more. And that's just what we did today on our way to the Top Ryde Shopping Centre, aka the local mall.
Fortunately, today was an overcast day, staying around 21°C all day (that's around 72°F) without any beating sun. Occasionally a slight breeze blew our way, as we wandered the hills that split Gladesville and Ryde City. We were in no hurry. Going to the mall was purely to go see what we saw and to get out of the house for a while. Thus, the pace was casual as we meandered through the neighborhoods. We took note of the general silence of our surroundings. Occasionally, someone would be out sweeping his or her driveway, but that was the extent of the goings-ons for most of the walk. We saw hardly a sole outside of an occasional passing car. We came across bus-stops for bus numbers we'd never seen before--not that we were seeing the actual buses go by most of the time. So, after a while, we simply began to reassure ourselves: "If we just keep walking, we're bound to get somewhere eventually, right?"
Right, actually. We came to a larger street with much more traffic. After a brief moment of debate, we turned left and walked... and walked... and walked... Finally, we came to a man who was loading his truck with various items from his house. I walked passed him without a second glance. Nick, however, stopped and asked, "Excuse me sir, do you know how to get to the mall?"
"Just keep walkin'," the man said in a strong accent. "Yer 'bout half a k away, I'd say."
Nick thanked the man and we were on our way again. And within ten minutes, we'd found our destination. Now, we'd been to this place once before very briefly; Ross had taken us there, but we'd gone in one entrance and into one store right next to that entrance. So, it was an utter surprise when Nick and I turned the corner and found a long, open air corridor of stores with incredible iron and wood art decorations before us. We paused and stared for a moment. Both of us were in awe. This was a shopping mall, but it was a gorgeous shopping mall. We turned into the main building and discovered a complex web of levels, connected in some places by escalators, in some by travelators (escalator ramps), and of course some elevators. First we made our way up the nearest travelator, looking around in awe at the sheer magnitude of the building we'd entered. It did not look nearly as big from the outside. We then continued going upwards, taking a long escalator to the cinema at the utmost height of the mall. We had no intention of watching a movie, but we wanted to see what was on and we glad to see a fair selection of recent films were available. We returned to the floor below, wandered through a couple game and hobby stores--both of which were far better than most I've seen in the US, and then began to cross the building for the first time.
Imagine a gigantic mall with no two stores that have the same things. No, I didn't think it was possible either. Until today. This place just kept going and I felt like none of it was overly repetitive in the products being sold. Each store specialized in something specific. We wandered down a level. And we walked around for a while, discovering the entrance we'd first used with Ross--in the one corner of the place that doesn't show you how huge the rest of it is. We then went down to the next level--keeping track? That's 3 main floors so far, not including the cinema floor. Here, we discovered the food court, which we were glad to see had all sorts of different cultural food for decent prices. There was hardly a thing I wasn't interested in trying. Then, we entered one of the handful of supermarkets we had to choose from in the mall--that's right, this mall had supermarkets in it; fresh fruit, frozen meat, drinks, you name the food item, they had it. It was like a bunch of Earth Fares with a handful of differing items each were all located in the close proximity of the same building.
After Nick bought some tuna--he apparently loves tuna a lot; he was super excited, we head down to lowest level (before you get into parking garage territory). So, 4 main floors to this place--oh and did I mention the architecture was beautiful? This place was not only full of wonderful stores, but it was a feast for the eyes. Artistic and aesthetically pleasing. And there before us was bakery with cheap bread and pastries. But first we were offered free samples of sausage, which was phenomenal sausage; one bite was full of flavor that instantly made me want more. However, we turned our attention from the samples to the bakery. We each bought a snack: Nick got a chocolate claw--he said it was like a croissant filled with chocolate mousse, and I got a blueberry pastry--mine was essentially like heaven; that's the only way I can describe it. We then wandered around searching for potential drink options--this place had like 7 or 8 different coffee shop choices (none of which were Starbucks, thank God).
I finally decided on this interesting looking place called Chatime Tea. It had a list of its most popular items and so I decided to just go with the #1 seller: the Grass Jelly Roasted Milk Tea. Yeah, I know the name sounds disgusting, but it looked intriguing and I figured it must be the #1 seller for a reason. So, I got this tea, which was pretty good. It was similar to chai, though with kind of a grassy taste rather than a spice taste (in a good way). Then, I discovered the jelly part of the name wasn't kidding. Suddenly, I felt this weird, slimy thing in my mouth. I stopped in my tracks. I pulled the jelly out of my mouth with my fingers. It was a disgusting blackish yellow color--through the clear cup, it had looked like greenish leaves floating in the tea--I'd just thought it was tea leaves. No. It was legitimate jelly, mostly flavorless that would come up through my straw all of a sudden, because it was so slick that it created no more tension than a liquid. It was bizarre, to say the least. So, there I was in the most incredible shopping mall I've ever been to, drinking the strangest tea I've ever had, thinking of The Lion King: "Slimy, but satisfying."
And that it was. Though I probably won't get that particular tea again--it wasn't bad, but it was awfully weird. I fully intend to return to the mall, hopefully by a better route than the one we took to get there (we caught a bus back home after, btw). The fact is... that mall was the kind of place I would love to hang out. That's not something I'd say about most malls. I was amazed. Still am. It seemed like a place of fantasy. I look forward to my next trip there.
05 March 2011
"It's the march of the gay parade!"
The outfits were flamboyant. The crowd was huge. Everyone was in a good mood. After an afternoon spent at the NSW State Library doing research, Nick, Kara, and I had headed to Hyde Park, where the participants of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade were gathering. We walked around, simply seeing the outrageous costumes and feeling the celebratory atmosphere. The parade wasn't to begin for nearly 2 more hours, but the crowd was already huge. We saw a large group of people painted and clothed in all orange. We saw a man wearing no shirt, a cape, a bikini bottom, and intense high heel shoes--they made him stand about 7 feet tall. We saw a guy in tight gold shorts with long balloons spreading from his back like some kind of cartoonish wings. We saw people wearing glittery silver. Some people simply wore shirts with exclamations about gay pride. Drag outfits were everywhere.
We didn't stay for the actual parade due to a handful of factors: the crowd lined up to watch was as tight as a mosh pit--which made it extremely hard to see anything, we didn't want to have to try and deal with public transportation once everyone started to leave, and there's also that tidbit where I was with a couple of conservative Christians, who are great people and would've stayed if I'd pushed the matter but they didn't really want to be there.
Thus, we turned away from Oxford Street, found our way to Woolworth's, where we ate fish and chips, and then headed out of the city. The organized chaos of the people gathering for the parade was a fascinating kind of human self-expression, and I imagine the parade itself was even moreso. The festivities were joyous and friendly, welcoming. Was it awkward to see so much gay and lesbian expression? No, not really. Everyone there was aware of how insane their costumes were. It was simply a party where everyone dressed extravagantly and ridiculously so as to make a statement of open-mindedness, pride, and, most importantly, to simply have fun. And in my opinion, there's nothing wrong with that whatsoever.
We didn't stay for the actual parade due to a handful of factors: the crowd lined up to watch was as tight as a mosh pit--which made it extremely hard to see anything, we didn't want to have to try and deal with public transportation once everyone started to leave, and there's also that tidbit where I was with a couple of conservative Christians, who are great people and would've stayed if I'd pushed the matter but they didn't really want to be there.
Thus, we turned away from Oxford Street, found our way to Woolworth's, where we ate fish and chips, and then headed out of the city. The organized chaos of the people gathering for the parade was a fascinating kind of human self-expression, and I imagine the parade itself was even moreso. The festivities were joyous and friendly, welcoming. Was it awkward to see so much gay and lesbian expression? No, not really. Everyone there was aware of how insane their costumes were. It was simply a party where everyone dressed extravagantly and ridiculously so as to make a statement of open-mindedness, pride, and, most importantly, to simply have fun. And in my opinion, there's nothing wrong with that whatsoever.
03 March 2011
Lamb roast, microwave expansion, and memories
"If you were to microwave a Peep to expand it and then put a Cadbury Egg inside it, and then eat it, would that make the Peep a cannibal?" Alessandra raised this question tonight. Allana, the Ukrainian (Vitaliy, I think his name is), and I laughed.
"No," Allana said.
"But it does!" Alessandra insisted.
"You're very special," I said with a laugh.
We then went into a discussion about microwaving things to expand them and then putting things inside them and whether that makes them cannibal--we decided that if you expand a person and put a person inside her, that doesn't make her a cannibal but pregnant... unless to be pregnant is to be a cannibal, in which case the world's got some major problems.
Confused? Well, we had a lamb roast tonight. Some fine cooking by the good man Ross, as usual. Tonight's Jason's final night with us--he returns to China tomorrow for a few months before he comes back to Australia to begin uni. Ross had told us to invite some friends to join us for dinner and so I did just that. I asked Alessandra if she'd be interested just before The Gathering and told her she should feel free to invite a friend or two. She did so. Thus it was that she and Allana got to experience the household of 52 Higginbotham Road.
Tonight was a night of memorable moments. Ryan spoke profoundly: "I've remembered things since my earliest memory." Jason hit in 13 pool balls in a row--his new record. We poked fun at Dom's bald head. Alessandra chatted in Portuguese with Leandro. A kookaburra decided to come into sight. We ate a glorious lamb roast. And the conversation was just generally good.
Alessandra was one of the first people on this expedition that I met--she was among the handful of people who arrived early to LAX when we set out. And we sat in the terminal chatting about Steinbeck. Our agreement on Steinbeck gave me a good first impression and I'm glad to have found my first impression appears to have been correct. Alessandra appears to have all the makings of someone who could become a close friend and that makes me happy. And tonight was really the first I'd talked to Allana (another Drama person) much and she's quite awesome as well. These two are intelligent, witty, and quite fun to be around. They're the kind of people one would want to seek out and I've had the good fortune to be in Australia at the right time, at the right place so as to have friendship simply fall into place without any difficulty.
My good fortune lately has been incredible. On the way from the school, Allana told me that some of the girls in her Directing course were very complimentary of my instruction while working on The Stronger. Apparently, rumor has it that I'm a pretty good director, good to work with--at least from a first impression. I fell into the assistant director position by good fortune, just as it was good fortune that put me at LAX early enough that I was in that first group and thus got to sit and chat with Alessandra from the get-go, and it was that same good fortune that put her and Allana into the same household, which resulted in my lovely evening tonight with these wonderful people.
It's still early on in the semester. It's still Week 1 of classes. And friendships are growing quickly. And I'm loving every minute. I'm in a place that I love, doing what I love, with people who I'm pretty sure, with just a bit more time, I'm going to love. Everything's fallen into place so neatly. It is wonderful.
There's one more quote from tonight worth recording. It came from Ross, who may or may not be a Christian: "It's a bit romantic, but, in a spiritual sense love is just a four letter word for God and God is just a three letter word for love. They're the same thing. One and the same."
And that's all I'm going to say about that.
"No," Allana said.
"But it does!" Alessandra insisted.
"You're very special," I said with a laugh.
We then went into a discussion about microwaving things to expand them and then putting things inside them and whether that makes them cannibal--we decided that if you expand a person and put a person inside her, that doesn't make her a cannibal but pregnant... unless to be pregnant is to be a cannibal, in which case the world's got some major problems.
Confused? Well, we had a lamb roast tonight. Some fine cooking by the good man Ross, as usual. Tonight's Jason's final night with us--he returns to China tomorrow for a few months before he comes back to Australia to begin uni. Ross had told us to invite some friends to join us for dinner and so I did just that. I asked Alessandra if she'd be interested just before The Gathering and told her she should feel free to invite a friend or two. She did so. Thus it was that she and Allana got to experience the household of 52 Higginbotham Road.
Tonight was a night of memorable moments. Ryan spoke profoundly: "I've remembered things since my earliest memory." Jason hit in 13 pool balls in a row--his new record. We poked fun at Dom's bald head. Alessandra chatted in Portuguese with Leandro. A kookaburra decided to come into sight. We ate a glorious lamb roast. And the conversation was just generally good.
Alessandra was one of the first people on this expedition that I met--she was among the handful of people who arrived early to LAX when we set out. And we sat in the terminal chatting about Steinbeck. Our agreement on Steinbeck gave me a good first impression and I'm glad to have found my first impression appears to have been correct. Alessandra appears to have all the makings of someone who could become a close friend and that makes me happy. And tonight was really the first I'd talked to Allana (another Drama person) much and she's quite awesome as well. These two are intelligent, witty, and quite fun to be around. They're the kind of people one would want to seek out and I've had the good fortune to be in Australia at the right time, at the right place so as to have friendship simply fall into place without any difficulty.
My good fortune lately has been incredible. On the way from the school, Allana told me that some of the girls in her Directing course were very complimentary of my instruction while working on The Stronger. Apparently, rumor has it that I'm a pretty good director, good to work with--at least from a first impression. I fell into the assistant director position by good fortune, just as it was good fortune that put me at LAX early enough that I was in that first group and thus got to sit and chat with Alessandra from the get-go, and it was that same good fortune that put her and Allana into the same household, which resulted in my lovely evening tonight with these wonderful people.
It's still early on in the semester. It's still Week 1 of classes. And friendships are growing quickly. And I'm loving every minute. I'm in a place that I love, doing what I love, with people who I'm pretty sure, with just a bit more time, I'm going to love. Everything's fallen into place so neatly. It is wonderful.
There's one more quote from tonight worth recording. It came from Ross, who may or may not be a Christian: "It's a bit romantic, but, in a spiritual sense love is just a four letter word for God and God is just a three letter word for love. They're the same thing. One and the same."
And that's all I'm going to say about that.
01 March 2011
So... about that internship...
"Theatre Secondment.... Working in an industry position designed/helped decided upon by the head of the drama department. That sounds like it could be cool! I'll sign up for it!" So went my thoughts back when I was initially trying to figure out what courses I should be taking while enrolled at the ASC. Then it turned out they weren't offering any actual secondments this semester. However, they offered internships instead, potentially assistant directing or assistant stage managing. Well, the directing one sounded more interesting to me off the bat, simply because I prefer the creative side of the work to the management/organization side, though both positions are quite important. So, I said, "Sure, I'd like to do that!"
Time passed and it turned out I needed to have a meeting with Herman and Jo--Herman being the head of drama and Jo being his second in command, essentially. And there was one other student wanting to do the same position. It was decided that we'd meet during orientation and there we'd figure out logistics and qualifications for positions.
So, the time came for our meeting last Friday. They told us a bit about what they were offering--assistant directing 3 short plays: a Strindberg, a Chekov, and a Sartre. And Aaron, the other student who'd shown interest, decided he didn't feel he had enough training for such a work-heavy position; he graciously declined. So, the question turned to me: "Are you still interested?"
I must admit I was a bit nervous. I was unsure I was really qualified to say, "Sure, I want to assistant direct for the head of the department, working on shows that, to be honest, intimidate me!" But then I realized opportunities like this just don't come around everyday. And so I said yes. Herman told me to come to class Tuesday and we'd figure out a set schedule of my involvement later.
So, Tuesday came and I went to class. They'd already had a class Monday. Several of the students had their scripts before their summer holiday. Everyone present had a better idea what was going on than I did. Imagine my surprise when Herman said, "Alright, everyone. Today, I'm going to work with the In Camera group here. Dan will take Mckenzie and Adriana to work on The Stronger, and Annie, you can go do some research on The Bear."
I was sitting there thinking, "Wait. What?! This is the first I've even heard the names of the plays we're doing! I haven't even got a copy of the scripts, let alone read them!" And Herman told me to go through The Stronger with the girls, doing a script analysis, being sure to ask questions about motivation, to figure out what's happening within the script, so they are getting stronger handles on the characters, so they can begin finding out the little details. Thus, I went with the girls down to the grassy knoll, and we ran into Lisa on the way, who handed me my scripts (praise God), and we read through The Stronger. As soon as the read through was done, Mckenzie and Adriana began discussing immediately without my prompting. Then, I got my sea legs about me, and my directing instincts began to kick in. I suddenly was remembering what kinds of questions I needed to ask, what kind of things I needed to say to get these two fine actors thinking in ways that would help them find their characters, find their motivations. Director mode turned on. I let the girls discuss as they would and would prompt questions whenever a lull would occur. We talked about the (roughly) 10 minute show for a little over an hour. I was happy with the work, as were both girls. We accomplished a lot and both of them commented that it was one of the most productive sessions outside of the classroom setting they'd had.
Day 1 of my involvement with the Shorts went well. I've now read all three plays (The Stronger by August Strindberg, The Bear by Anton Chekov, and Huis Clos (In Camera) by Jean-Paul Sartre). And I'm wrapping my head around the idea that I'm assistant directing what are all fairly tough classics--any one of which would be a pretty big undertaking by itself, let alone along with the other two. And the actors I was working with today were undaunted, which fueled my own energy. I'm excited for these shows. I'm excited for this semester. I'm in a place that I love doing the kind of work that I love with people who clearly love it too. And they are wonderful people. I don't think I can truly express just how lucky I am right now. Life is so good.
Time passed and it turned out I needed to have a meeting with Herman and Jo--Herman being the head of drama and Jo being his second in command, essentially. And there was one other student wanting to do the same position. It was decided that we'd meet during orientation and there we'd figure out logistics and qualifications for positions.
So, the time came for our meeting last Friday. They told us a bit about what they were offering--assistant directing 3 short plays: a Strindberg, a Chekov, and a Sartre. And Aaron, the other student who'd shown interest, decided he didn't feel he had enough training for such a work-heavy position; he graciously declined. So, the question turned to me: "Are you still interested?"
I must admit I was a bit nervous. I was unsure I was really qualified to say, "Sure, I want to assistant direct for the head of the department, working on shows that, to be honest, intimidate me!" But then I realized opportunities like this just don't come around everyday. And so I said yes. Herman told me to come to class Tuesday and we'd figure out a set schedule of my involvement later.
So, Tuesday came and I went to class. They'd already had a class Monday. Several of the students had their scripts before their summer holiday. Everyone present had a better idea what was going on than I did. Imagine my surprise when Herman said, "Alright, everyone. Today, I'm going to work with the In Camera group here. Dan will take Mckenzie and Adriana to work on The Stronger, and Annie, you can go do some research on The Bear."
I was sitting there thinking, "Wait. What?! This is the first I've even heard the names of the plays we're doing! I haven't even got a copy of the scripts, let alone read them!" And Herman told me to go through The Stronger with the girls, doing a script analysis, being sure to ask questions about motivation, to figure out what's happening within the script, so they are getting stronger handles on the characters, so they can begin finding out the little details. Thus, I went with the girls down to the grassy knoll, and we ran into Lisa on the way, who handed me my scripts (praise God), and we read through The Stronger. As soon as the read through was done, Mckenzie and Adriana began discussing immediately without my prompting. Then, I got my sea legs about me, and my directing instincts began to kick in. I suddenly was remembering what kinds of questions I needed to ask, what kind of things I needed to say to get these two fine actors thinking in ways that would help them find their characters, find their motivations. Director mode turned on. I let the girls discuss as they would and would prompt questions whenever a lull would occur. We talked about the (roughly) 10 minute show for a little over an hour. I was happy with the work, as were both girls. We accomplished a lot and both of them commented that it was one of the most productive sessions outside of the classroom setting they'd had.
Day 1 of my involvement with the Shorts went well. I've now read all three plays (The Stronger by August Strindberg, The Bear by Anton Chekov, and Huis Clos (In Camera) by Jean-Paul Sartre). And I'm wrapping my head around the idea that I'm assistant directing what are all fairly tough classics--any one of which would be a pretty big undertaking by itself, let alone along with the other two. And the actors I was working with today were undaunted, which fueled my own energy. I'm excited for these shows. I'm excited for this semester. I'm in a place that I love doing the kind of work that I love with people who clearly love it too. And they are wonderful people. I don't think I can truly express just how lucky I am right now. Life is so good.
27 February 2011
A Celebrity Encounter
"What's your name?"
"Daniel. What's yours?"
"My name's Nicholas Cage." This was a man at the bus stop. He had about 3 teeth, a heavy Australian accent, a cigarette in his hand, and a mouth dirtier than an old rag after washing the plates from a bbq dinner. He was a large man, grotesque to look at and he was not happy that the bus was running late. And it just so happened that both Good Ol' Saint Nic (as he called himself at one point) and me were both waiting on the 506. Furious, the man kept rattling off things about the "fucking buses, always fucking late, fucking cunts." Pardon the language, but these were his words. Bloody and bugger entered his vocabulary frequently as well. This has been fairly common language in my experiences here thus far. Certainly more common than in the States. However, that's not what I want to record about Nicholas Cage. The man was nuts. Let me go into a bit of detail.
A nice night after a good day spent at the beach (at Manly), I'd just eaten Thai with Tess and Rachel. We'd taken Kara to her home, because she'd lost her glasses in the ocean and couldn't see to navigate the buses. Fortunately, her home is in Drummoyne just around the corner from Wesley. We dropped her off and headed down the street to the Thai place. The food was quite good, as was the company. Well, I decided it was time for me to head home, about a 30 minute bus ride from our current location. I said my good evenings to the girls and headed on up the street.
As evenings go, buses here become less frequent. So, I sat down on a bench at the stop waiting. Nicholas Cage walked up and sat on the next bench down. Time passed. No sign of a bus. I got up to check the time sheet. One had gone by just a few minutes before, apparently. Nothing to do but wait. And wait. And wait. Twenty minutes pass before he spoke to me specifically, but the man was cussing under his breath basically as soon as he arrived at the bus stop. And then he approached me to discuss how he felt. "Mate, we're all cards in the same deck, you know what I mean? You, you're the Queen of Diamonds and I'm the Queen of Spades, mate. And you know what I do? I take all the queens and I rip them in half and that makes twelve. And there's the bloody problem, mate. They've got it all wrong. There are twelve commandments, not ten, you know what I mean? The religion's lying to us. That's what's wrong with the world. They don't even have it right, mate."
Through all this I thought it best simply to agree with whatever the man said. I nodded and gave some "Yeah, uh huh" responses as appropriate. The man continued. "I've got a secret to tell you. We're in America, mate." At this I laughed.
"Oh really? How do you know?" I asked him.
"The bloody McDonald's, mate. They're everywhere. Just listen to Good Ol' Saint Nic. They don't have those in the rest of the world. If we went up to Canada, you'd never seen a McDonald's. It's awful. Cards in the same deck, mate. Twelve commandments, not ten, you know what I mean? How old are you?"
"Twenty," I told him a bit hesitatingly. "Yourself?"
"Jesus, I'm forty two. All awful."
"Really?" I asked. "Surely not every moment has been bad."
"It all has. They kidnapped me and fucked me up. Made me crazy."
I laughed again a bit nervously. He certainly had the crazy part right. Well, he continued cussing about the bus system and he continued his random stream of consciousness statements that didn't make much sense--he kept coming back to the part about twelve commandments (I never did figure out what the extra two are). Finally the bus arrived, he shook my hand, and wished me well. He sat towards the back, I sat towards the front--where I just happened to be right in front of Ryan and Santiago, who I was relieved to see. The man was harmless, but he still made me a bit nervous.
The people here are so different. It's wonderful and strange. But hey, I came to Australia less than a week ago and I've already had my first celebrity encounter. Sure, it was Nic Cage rather than Hugh Jackman, but you gotta take what you can get, right?
"Daniel. What's yours?"
"My name's Nicholas Cage." This was a man at the bus stop. He had about 3 teeth, a heavy Australian accent, a cigarette in his hand, and a mouth dirtier than an old rag after washing the plates from a bbq dinner. He was a large man, grotesque to look at and he was not happy that the bus was running late. And it just so happened that both Good Ol' Saint Nic (as he called himself at one point) and me were both waiting on the 506. Furious, the man kept rattling off things about the "fucking buses, always fucking late, fucking cunts." Pardon the language, but these were his words. Bloody and bugger entered his vocabulary frequently as well. This has been fairly common language in my experiences here thus far. Certainly more common than in the States. However, that's not what I want to record about Nicholas Cage. The man was nuts. Let me go into a bit of detail.
A nice night after a good day spent at the beach (at Manly), I'd just eaten Thai with Tess and Rachel. We'd taken Kara to her home, because she'd lost her glasses in the ocean and couldn't see to navigate the buses. Fortunately, her home is in Drummoyne just around the corner from Wesley. We dropped her off and headed down the street to the Thai place. The food was quite good, as was the company. Well, I decided it was time for me to head home, about a 30 minute bus ride from our current location. I said my good evenings to the girls and headed on up the street.
As evenings go, buses here become less frequent. So, I sat down on a bench at the stop waiting. Nicholas Cage walked up and sat on the next bench down. Time passed. No sign of a bus. I got up to check the time sheet. One had gone by just a few minutes before, apparently. Nothing to do but wait. And wait. And wait. Twenty minutes pass before he spoke to me specifically, but the man was cussing under his breath basically as soon as he arrived at the bus stop. And then he approached me to discuss how he felt. "Mate, we're all cards in the same deck, you know what I mean? You, you're the Queen of Diamonds and I'm the Queen of Spades, mate. And you know what I do? I take all the queens and I rip them in half and that makes twelve. And there's the bloody problem, mate. They've got it all wrong. There are twelve commandments, not ten, you know what I mean? The religion's lying to us. That's what's wrong with the world. They don't even have it right, mate."
Through all this I thought it best simply to agree with whatever the man said. I nodded and gave some "Yeah, uh huh" responses as appropriate. The man continued. "I've got a secret to tell you. We're in America, mate." At this I laughed.
"Oh really? How do you know?" I asked him.
"The bloody McDonald's, mate. They're everywhere. Just listen to Good Ol' Saint Nic. They don't have those in the rest of the world. If we went up to Canada, you'd never seen a McDonald's. It's awful. Cards in the same deck, mate. Twelve commandments, not ten, you know what I mean? How old are you?"
"Twenty," I told him a bit hesitatingly. "Yourself?"
"Jesus, I'm forty two. All awful."
"Really?" I asked. "Surely not every moment has been bad."
"It all has. They kidnapped me and fucked me up. Made me crazy."
I laughed again a bit nervously. He certainly had the crazy part right. Well, he continued cussing about the bus system and he continued his random stream of consciousness statements that didn't make much sense--he kept coming back to the part about twelve commandments (I never did figure out what the extra two are). Finally the bus arrived, he shook my hand, and wished me well. He sat towards the back, I sat towards the front--where I just happened to be right in front of Ryan and Santiago, who I was relieved to see. The man was harmless, but he still made me a bit nervous.
The people here are so different. It's wonderful and strange. But hey, I came to Australia less than a week ago and I've already had my first celebrity encounter. Sure, it was Nic Cage rather than Hugh Jackman, but you gotta take what you can get, right?
25 February 2011
"It's the people you're with that matters..."
Dominique (Dominic?)--Dom. He's Ross's neighbor who does a lot of work around the yard. He's actually a construction worker. This man has a big beer belly. He hardly wears a shirt and when he does it's usually unbuttoned. He just wanders onto Ross's property and talks with us frequently. A beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, it's rare to see him without both. He always seems drunk and it may very well be that he always is just a little bit so. Well, tonight, Dom decided to go out of his comfort zone, as did I. It was Jason's birthday today. He also passed his English exam which will allow him to enrol in uni here in Australia. Thus, tonight, Ross tossed some lamb and some sausages on the barbie and we feasted Aussie style. A large group of about 15 were here tonight and it was just hanging out, eating, and having a good time. Then, as part of the celebration, we all headed into Sydney to a pub in a hotel--the Shark Bar.
We went to the pub and all the non-Americans were drinking, as is normal (I won't pretend like they weren't getting tipsy, as they were). There was a good amount of dancing in the place, lots of music and lights. It was packed. And yes, even I got up and danced a bit. But the highlight of the evening was sitting and chatting with Dom.
Out of the blue, this seemingly always drunk man starts talking to me about the importance of caring about the people you're close to. He points out to me that most of the people in the bar are Asians. He clarifies he's not trying to be racist, it's just interesting. And that turns into a brief, but interesting discussion in which Dom says, "I don't care about if you're white or black or yellow or anything. It's your personality that matters. It's you as a person that matters." And he then says, "You know, Ross's wife died 5 years ago? Well, Ross has been my mate for 30 years. And his friends, we know we've gotta stick close. Ross is my friend. And it's just important for me to be here. I don't much care for the city, myself. I almost didn't come tonight, but it's an occasion that he cares about, so I thought, 'What the hell' and here I am."
That's friendship. Pure and simple. Dom doesn't look like much when you first look at him. But he is an incredible man. On the bus home--the last bus tonight--he gave some girl his number. Dom's a sneaky man. And he's as friendly as they come. And for a bit on the bus, he had all the attention of our group as we cheered for his success in talking to this lady. And then we got home. And there he was walking with me asking if I had a good time. I told him I did. I asked if he did. He said, "Yeah, I did. You know, those pubs aren't really my thing. I'd never been to that one and probably won't go back, but I had a good time. It's the people you're with that matters. Go to a place like that by yourself and you got nothing. Go with the right group and you'll have a great time."
And Dom's right. I have no idea if he's even a christian. But that man loves his neighbor like none other. And he's such an example of Australian hospitality--Ross is too, for that matter. The people here are incredible. I feel safe. Secure. Loved. And I only just got here. But I feel like these people are family. And it's going to suck to leave in 4 months. But I can already tell, this experience is going to change me. I'm already starting to think about the world differently. I don't think I'm going to be the same person when I return home. Life here is beautiful. I'm happy. And I can't wait for the change to really start happening, because loving like Dom does would be beautiful. And I think that's one of the main reasons I've ended up here. To learn to love. And I hope I can bring that home with me.
We went to the pub and all the non-Americans were drinking, as is normal (I won't pretend like they weren't getting tipsy, as they were). There was a good amount of dancing in the place, lots of music and lights. It was packed. And yes, even I got up and danced a bit. But the highlight of the evening was sitting and chatting with Dom.
Out of the blue, this seemingly always drunk man starts talking to me about the importance of caring about the people you're close to. He points out to me that most of the people in the bar are Asians. He clarifies he's not trying to be racist, it's just interesting. And that turns into a brief, but interesting discussion in which Dom says, "I don't care about if you're white or black or yellow or anything. It's your personality that matters. It's you as a person that matters." And he then says, "You know, Ross's wife died 5 years ago? Well, Ross has been my mate for 30 years. And his friends, we know we've gotta stick close. Ross is my friend. And it's just important for me to be here. I don't much care for the city, myself. I almost didn't come tonight, but it's an occasion that he cares about, so I thought, 'What the hell' and here I am."
That's friendship. Pure and simple. Dom doesn't look like much when you first look at him. But he is an incredible man. On the bus home--the last bus tonight--he gave some girl his number. Dom's a sneaky man. And he's as friendly as they come. And for a bit on the bus, he had all the attention of our group as we cheered for his success in talking to this lady. And then we got home. And there he was walking with me asking if I had a good time. I told him I did. I asked if he did. He said, "Yeah, I did. You know, those pubs aren't really my thing. I'd never been to that one and probably won't go back, but I had a good time. It's the people you're with that matters. Go to a place like that by yourself and you got nothing. Go with the right group and you'll have a great time."
And Dom's right. I have no idea if he's even a christian. But that man loves his neighbor like none other. And he's such an example of Australian hospitality--Ross is too, for that matter. The people here are incredible. I feel safe. Secure. Loved. And I only just got here. But I feel like these people are family. And it's going to suck to leave in 4 months. But I can already tell, this experience is going to change me. I'm already starting to think about the world differently. I don't think I'm going to be the same person when I return home. Life here is beautiful. I'm happy. And I can't wait for the change to really start happening, because loving like Dom does would be beautiful. And I think that's one of the main reasons I've ended up here. To learn to love. And I hope I can bring that home with me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)