Improvisation

20 July

We have been working through improvisation to create scenes—some inspired by autocours I had at Lecoq, some from J. Mandell’s book on creating theatre with teens and some from Boal.

Short descriptions of what we’ve had so far (this is not what will compose the final show—these are scenes created for the sake of creating in our workshops that will lead to a vocabulary that will carry over into our creation)

With objects:
A man and a woman get married. A jealous man approaches and kisses the newly weds then turns around the shoots the man.


Battle of elements and materials:
General Izith (oil) confronts General Terre (earth). A battle ensues. General Izith calls in Caoutchouc (rubber) to fight Feu (fire). Caoutchouc calls in Sachet en Plastique (Plastic Bag) for back up. Feu melts and kills Caoutchouc and Sachet en Plastique. Feu goes after General Izith who bubbles and pops with anger. Amen (water) enters and kills Feu and surprise attacks General Izith who squashes Amen and is the only one left standing…


Melodramatic Scenes that freeze at the climatic moment:

A woman sits in the street begging. A young man enters a leans against a nearby wall watching her. A young woman enters exhausted after a day of work at the Post Office and realizes that the old woman begging in the middle of the street is her Grandmother. Shocked she goes to take her home. The young man approaches and offers to help up the Grandmother. As he does this he steals the change the old woman had collected…

A young, very pregnant woman is laughing at a TV program when labor pains ensue. Her husband comes home having drunk too much. He enters and clumsily helps her into the car. En route to the hospital the car skids and crashes…


July 24

Today we went to visit the mother of a director who often works at the TRB—we arrived at her house and she said embarrassed “I don’t remember any folktales.” 4 hours after we arrived she told us 3 in a row. Her Grandchildren and daughter started out by listening with us and then one by one left the living room to go and watch TV in the other room. We also went to see her sister in law’s house who told us 1 folktale. She said: “folktales started to disappear during the war 54-62. We didn’t have time anymore and then we had electricity and then the TV and then…”

I am pushing this project towards a language de gestes style because I don’t want to have to deal with scenic designers and props and a set…simple simple simple and the girls keep asking what about costumes? What about the set?

July 29

Mosquito war. Every night c’est la guerre. They come sneaking into my apartment through the open windows. I do not understand why in a country with so many mosquitoes and humid regions why why why people do not build windows with screens!? And mosquito nets around beds. I wake up every night scratching and groaning and stumble into the kitchen and pour vinegar over the bites and then stumble back to bed. They have these mosquito apparatus with little blue chemical squares that heat up and kill mosquitoes. But it’s not enough. Not in my neighborhood. I have started to burn the little blue squares like incense and wave them around the room like some Catholic service. If I cover myself with the sheet they attack my head. If I leave a toe uncovered they attack. They are merciless these Bejaia mosquitoes. Today I am going to buy the strong horribly bad for the environment and health spray.

Basic Elements

12 July

One thing I am noticing is that these actors have trouble with their ability to imagine beyond what they see right in front of them. On the third day we worked on an exercise where one actor has their eyes closed and another leads them on an adventure of different obstacles in the space. Each actor is to imagine a specific location with specific events. The first few tries the actors were thinking only of what they knew to be true of the space: an overturned chair, a mattress, a curtain…finally at the end we started getting stories of war, a mother searching for her son, a day in the life of an office worker…

I have thrown a lot of first year Lecoq work out as well—identifying as elements and materials in order to create characters. Fire has always been one of the hardest elements to identify with because it easily can turn into a strange modern dance piece rather than a pure element. With these actresses I was surprised. They have trouble with air and earth but fire came so easily to them. But then it was like pulling teeth to get them to recreate what they had found in the improv! To at least try and find it again! There is always the question of how far do I push…just enough but not too much that they crack…luckily the small theatre we are working in has air conditioning.

Inspired by the work we were doing with Off Leash Area in Minneapolis this past spring I’ve started integrating flocking into our warm ups. Following one another, listening to the breath of the group, give and take of movements…yeow it’s not easy. And concentration concentration concentration…

13 July

This morning N’s mom came to tell us folktales for the first hour of our session. I watched the actors more than her during the stories. Their faces were bright and attentive. She recited a poem she had written as well about her and N who didn’t meet until recently…

During lunch N said: “I didn’t want to tell you but I have done a lot of the stuff you are doing with us with an Italian director last year. I mean not the exact same stuff but he was always telling us the same things in the workshop.” Ha! That’s the work. That’s working out as a performer. The same general concepts (should) apply whether it’s an Italian or an American. And that means if you are getting the same comments from more than one person that you need to work a little harder! I didn’t say all that. I just thought it. I’ll say it little by little.

S said: “what in the world is the point of this flocking thing?” I said “you guys will tell me at the end of the session today.” I’m kinda of tough sometimes. But I know that when I have been on the other side of things I have always loved those moments of figuring something out on my own—having something click without it being dealt immediately.

14 July

Today I moved into a great apartment for the rest of the KFP. Whew! The 11th bed I’ve slept in since arriving in Algeria almost two months ago! I was so excited to actually unpack my clothes and have a couple of drawers and shelves to put my stuff in!

And this afternoon I ran into the TRB lighting designer and asked him what his summer schedule was like to light the KFP show…and he informed me that he asked the Director of the TRB if there was anything being performed in the small theatre this summer and he told him no. And so the lighting designer struck all the instruments in the small theatre where we are working and where we are supposed to be performing at the end of August!

L was not at the theatre today. When I called to ask what was going on she said: “I have an upset stomach and I was too ashamed to call you.” What? American’s don’t get upset stomachs too?


15 July
An hour into our session today the guardian knocked on the door (men always knock on the door now before coming into our rehearsals!) and introduced F. F said “I am here for theatre class.” I sighed a big sigh and looked at the 6 actors working on stage and asked them to explain to her exactly what the project entailed. Then So said with great big arm gestures: “don’t think you can just come and go as you please! We have been working for almost two weeks now and Sor and K have come and gone and we need to be a consistent group! So if you are serious about working with us until the beginning of September then come but if not don’t waste our time!”
I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t have to say anything!
F said: “I will watch today and then start next rehearsal.”

16 July
F joined today. 6 of us met at stadium and took a bus an hour up into the mountains and met with So’s best friend’s grandmother. In the small van/bus from one village to another we were 7 women and joined by 5 other traveling women. When the bus stopped to pick up a man at the next stop he opened the door, his eyes got all big and he looked downright scared and he didn’t dare get in! We all burst out laughing. How many times have I hopped into public transportation and been the only woman! Many!
Nana F lives alone in a large house sparsely decorated. We arrived loaded with eggs, yogurt, bread, and juice and found Nana F not home…her granddaughter hadn’t told her we were coming! Then So and Sa started to cut French fries when Nana F returned and said of course “I will tell you stories. Except I don’t have any teeth will you understand?” We recorded an hour with her. Then a neighbor showed up and we recorded her for another 20 minutes. Leaving Nana F’s house Ib started to cry. She said: “I am so touched by this woman…”
Then we were off to So’s friend’s house where her Mom and made us svinge and we recorded her telling folktales as well. Next Wednesday So is taking us to another village. Then Thursday another with Djamel from the TRB…

20 July

N was out with a bad back and L went to Turkey for a week to "save women's rights" she said. So needs a place to stay in town and we haven't able to get the right paper for the student housing. Sa took a film gig for a week but will only miss one day this week. And the TRB suddenly has decided to be really strict about these badges. Guardian Reda barreled into the theatre like a cop this morning crying "show me your badges now." What's that about? I am in charge of the space and if I don't have a problem with the people working with me what is the TRB's problem? General malaise this morning but we worked on melodramatic scenes and froze them at the heightened moments. I am started to feel really stressed about the creation and the gathering of stories...no one seems to want to work outside of our time together. Tomorrow we are working in the afternoon to listen to the recordings we collected last week.

Bejaia is full of Europeans now. Mixed couples, long lost immigrants, and dogs on leashes.

Petrol Port

I am staying this week in a not yet finished villa overlooking the port of Bejaia. Everyday I watch the petrol boats come and go. We take showers on the terrace in the middle of the day with water from the citern that heats up in the sun. Madame says "I figure the men on the ships haven't seen a woman in a long time, why not let them look." She knows the movement of every boat moored in the harbor and knows every family that ever set foot in Bejaia. Today we gorged ourselves on sivnge (Kabyle donuts) and homemade prune and apricot jam. This morning I spent picking the leaves of all her dried herbs off the stems and into jars. "Oh how I love when someone offers to help me!" She cried. She makes teas that cure headaches, digestive problems, circulation problems, cramps, stress...teas that are bitter and are to be swallowed cold. 

I am trying to organize village trips for the actresses of the KFP and myself to meet old women who know Kabyle folktales. I've got 3 possible villages lined up.  This is folktale collecting plan B. Plan C is hit the books. Taos Amrouche and Mouloud Mammeri already sort of did the work for us...but one of the goals of this project is to get the younger generation asking folktales of the older generation...

Finally there is a breeze from the sea. 

Photos above are from Mostaganem and the Palais du Bey in Oran. 

Obstacles

Today we concluded our third day of work--9 hours so far. S has a serious fear of risk taking alone and a fear of failure. K didn't show up today and we found out she was at the dentist. L had to go to the consulate to see about a VISA to Turkey. I and A and S said they do not have any older relatives who know any folktales. The older lady we were supposed to go and see today ended up going to the village with her daughter...S.O knows many folktales and told us two today. She said we might be able to go to her village and visit her grandmother etc. I am looking into ways we can perform not only in Bejaia but also in surrounding villages at youth centers and other small theatre's. Maybe that is how we will reach and inspire more people. My goal of reviving the tradition of the folktale seems a bit far fetched now...but hopefully this project will be a way of transmiting the stories in another way...

And we keep marching on...

BejaiaOranAlgiersBejaia

16 June in Bejaia

Today Bejaia won the Coup d’Algérie—the entire city took to the streets and danced—old women, babies, old men, young men, students…everyone. Except me. I was watching it all on TV and forgot that I was supposed to meet S at the Cultural House. Then I was too freaked out to go on my own—entertaining images of being trampled in a crowd that has so little opportunity to let loose…

26 June in Oran

Lately I have been discussing Algerian identity with Oranian artists. Their point of view is quite different than that of many of the Berbers I have met in various parts of the world. One thing that comes up often is while these folks are Arabophone they are acutely aware that they are also Berber. “We are mixed, especially those of us with roots in Oran. We are Berber, Arab, Spanish, French, Turkish…” Another said—“yes it is extremely unfortunate that in school we are not taught Berber, Tamazight, but which Berber should they teach us? Kabyle, Touareg, Chaoui?” He continued “Tamazight was just recently written down in a way that made it possible to study in school…Arabic has been used as a literary language for millennia so it’s much easier to transmit from generation to generation across borders and continents.” Another said “I wish we could find an Algerian identity that makes sense for 2008—were the diversity and history of this country was celebrated and used as a way to bring us together rather than to create divisions between people living between the same borders.”

One thing I know is true: no matter what household I find myself in here in Algeria certain things do not change: the intense sense of humor of the people, a love of french fries I will never quite understand, homemade bread, doilies doilies everywhere, and the TV always on…

Here in Oran I have met women between 60 and 90 years old with impeccable French, noticed that people in the street talk about music, theatre and cinema, met my generation of Algerian hipsters, seen women at the beach in Miami style bikinis, attended a jazz concert at the Regional Theatre of Oran with a packed house, and seen the Berber sign of liberty painted on many many a wall…

3 July Bejaia and then Algiers

I met with the KFP actresses yesterday—looks like we are 6 for sure and still waiting on 3…not nearly as many as I was hoping. There is a bit of a divide between “you should do this project during the school year when we don’t spend so much time at the beach” and “thank goodness you are doing this during the summer when we spend all day at home with nothing to do and start to feel totally disgusted with life…” I’m not sure who to listen to!

One of the actresses I have already gotten to know quite well. She has been telling me her life story in small pieces—of dropping out of school because she and her mom moved around so much, squatting in abandoned buildings, living horrific situations behind closed doors…she said she never felt like she was worth anything until she found the theatre community…”but there’s not enough to do here, there are not enough opportunities to perform.” After our meeting this week she said: “I am so excited to begin, I feel like I am reliving the first time I was cast in a show…” She’s why I am here.

I’ve decided to stay with a new family for July—a friend of a friend whose house is along the edge of the sea over looking the port of Bejaia with a grand terrace.

Right now I am in Algiers at my aunts until Saturday (Algerian Independence Day) because I have been invited to the US Embassy for a 4th of July BBQ potluck. Yes, the US Embassy has insisted its citizens in Algeria provide the salad and beverages. Really? It has to be a potluck? They can’t provide for us just this once? I am looking forward to meeting other Americans in Algeria. I am super curious as to what they are doing here…

July 4 in Algiers

And in the middle of the classiest neighborhood in Algiers I ate deviled eggs, tuna salad, big ol’ hamburger with a pickle and a brownie. I met folks who work in various departments at the Embassy. I am going to try and dream up an “American” influenced cultural program for next year. Naomi Wallace in Oran and Algiers?

Two things that I have come to realize recently:
It does me no good to continue to mourn the things in the States and Europe that I wish were here—my favorite coffee shops for example—living in a different country would be boring if everywhere you went it was the same décor, the same mentality, the same way of life…
Also, sometimes when I go out I have this voice in my head saying “Algeria is out to get you! Be careful!” And I feel all tense and catch myself scowling a lot. But as soon as I relax and think: “go with the river rather than against it, you are just as welcome here as someone who grew up on this street, you belong here” I relax, my language skills come easier, I walk with more confidence and feel more apart of the daily tableau rather than the odd one out.

July 7 in Bejaia

The KFP began yesterday. I have 7 talented young women working with me. We created a big list of goals for the project and posted on the theatre walls. I insist that we clean the stage everyday. When we arrived yesterday is was a mess and the guardian kept saying "don't clean that's the work of a guardian!" But if we don't clean who will...so we got the soap and the brooms. What I've noticed here is that as soon as you start an action people come to help you. But dream on if you are going to wait for someone else to take the initiative.

Tomorrow afternoon after our morning session we are going to visit an old woman storyteller. "But I am warning you" N said, "if her knees hurt we won't get a single story out of her."

By the way the 3 picture posted in me being interviewed by the Amazigh radio station in Oran at the Arab Film Festival.