The Passion Conversation

Last week was a busy, crazy, nutso week for me here in grad-school-donia.  There were power outages and migraines and university bureaucracy galore.  But this is not a post about that.  This is a post about a little pick-me-up.  I am working on my PhD, which means that books are a pretty substantial part of my life.  It's a rare week that goes by without my receiving a book (or two... or more) in the mail.  So there was nothing immediately remarkable when I came home the other night to find a book in my mailbox.  But as I trudged up the three flights to my apartment, I noticed the return address: Brains on Fire.  It was a copy of their latest book, which I had had a hand in proofing.  How sweet of them to send me a copy!  I opened the box as I climbed - never one for delayed gratification - and flipped open the cover to find that it was also signed by all of the BoF crew.  And I'll tell ya, this made me smile.  I'm sure mine wasn't the only signed book that went out.  And as it's been about five years since I left, the people I know there are now pretty much outnumbered by the people I don't.  But still, I was moved.  It was a little long distance hug from this wacky family I got to spend a few years with, and it was a recognition that, no matter how many years or miles or degrees pass, I'm still a part of that family.  And that's really what The Passion Conversation is about, isn't it?  The myriad little things that a company can do to bring smiles to the faces of those who encounter them?  Because isn't a smile the spark of any passion?

Thanks, BoF!  Love you guys!

Monday, Tuesday... What Day Is It?

Monday Steps: 5132
Monday Miles: 1.62

Well... yesterday was the first day of the conference... and it was a little overwhelming, as these things always are.  It started out at 9:00 sharp with FIVE HOURS of my feminist research working group, which meant EIGHT presentations by crazy intimidating scholars from around the world.  And as I sat there listening to their research and feeling bad about the fact that I'm so ethnocentric to be writing about American theatre... something occurred to me: they're all writing about their own countries.  So just because mine happens to be all crazy and empire-esque doesn't mean I shouldn't write about what we're doing.  Right?  <shrug>  So I guess that was good.
Then, after five hours in the same non-air-conditioned room, I came out into the hallway to discover that the new scholars lunch workshop was in the same room.  So I grabbed my little brown bag lunch and sat right back down in that same stuffy room... but this time with more people.  By the end, I had been in that room for almost six and a half hours.  And I was on the verge of losing consciousness.
But I soldiered through and headed across the courtyard to the Teatre Lliure for our opening ceremony and our first keynote address.  The opening was basically a lot of talky-talk from a lot of mucky mucks.  We heard from the entire executive committee - most of whom were absolutely charming...especially the president!  So that's good to know.  And then we heard from the directors of the theatres that are cooperating with the conference... and this is when things started to get tough.  You see, this is an international organization, so it has two official languages: English and French.  So a couple of these theatre guys chose French instead of English.  And yeah... I definitely do not speak French.  And then some government guys came out and spoke some French... which I still did not speak.  It got a little rough there for a bit.

Then out came the adorable grandpa of theatre theory, Marvin Carlson, whose job it was to introduce our keynote speak Patrice Pavis - he made a name for himself as a rock star of semiotics.  Oh yeah.  His speech was LOOOOOONG and not particularly earth-shattering, but it was interesting, and it gave me some things to think about and some things to read, so that's good.  And I met a couple people, which was also good.  I'm such a terrible introvert...these things tend to be really difficult for me.
So one of my new conference buddies (a PhD student at University of Pittsburgh) and I grabbed some appetizers and then skedaddled.  I decided to take myself out to dinner at a restaurant down the street from my hotel.  I figured, when in Spain - order paella!  So I ordered the paella off of the vegetarian menu... but when it arrived, it had giant chunks of meat in it.  So I explained to the waiter that this was not, in fact, vegetarian. He argued that vegetable paella has chicken in it.  Umm... there are two separate items on the menu, buddy.  So he brought me new paella, which was okay... except I'm pretty sure it was prepared with some sort of meat broth, because I spent the rest of the night pretty uncomfortable in my hotel room.  And boy did I have a hard time sleeping.  But I'm pretty sure that's more about the nerves than about the animal products.

Tuesday Steps: 12939
Tuesday Miles: 4.08

So, when my alarm went off in the morning, after about three hours of sleep... I snoozed 'til I couldn't snooze no more... and then I made the executive decision to skip this morning's keynote and go ahead and snooze a little more.  It was much needed, and I don't feel bad about missing a speech about opera, that I'm sure was fine... but... I don't really worry that much about opera.  So once I finally got up, I grabbed breakfast downstairs and headed to the conference where I went to a weird little panel called Cyborg and Second Life Theatre.  I ran into my German conference buddy there, and we were just not sure what to make of it.  The first paper was about a couple of performance artists who got a bunch of surgeries to look like each other - it was actually a very interesting and well researched piece.  Then the second presentation was a performance artist who basically just described a bunch of his shows... it went on for a very long time... and didn't really seem to go anywhere.  He's doing some interesting stuff, but I would say he's one of those folks who maybe shouldn't present on his own work.  After that I headed to a new scholars panel (featuring my U Pitt conference buddy) on Performance Politics: Identity, Rights, Freedom.  It was a good set of papers - all of them were very interesting.
At this point, it was time for lunch (at 2:00)... so I headed to the New Scholars reception.  Unfortunately there were a gazillion people there, but none of them were my conference buddies, so I grabbed some food, stood around awkwardly while I ate it, and then snuck out to go to the nap room.  Yes, lunch is also our siesta break, and they have set up a nap room for anyone to just pop in for a little snooze (the word of the day, apparently).  I took myself a little power nap and felt fresh as a daisy!  (Plus, I discovered that the conference has free espresso... which didn't hurt with that whole staying alert thing either.)

Do NOT get between an academic and free coffee.

After Siesta I went to a panel on Constructing the Female Body (again with my German conference buddy).  The first paper didn't really tell us much, the second paper was interesting, but it was full of jargon and the guy talked really fast... but the third paper... oh man... quite impressive.  Her work centered around operating theatres and wax anatomy models from the 17th and 18th century.  They were creepy as heck, but it was a fascinating presentation by a very skillful presenter, so I had fun and learned a lot from her.  Then I sat in on another panel about Engaging Spectators' Complicity, but it really ended up not being my cup of tea, so I headed back to the hotel to drop off my bag before my first excursion on the Barcelona metro.  Yay, metro!
I found my way to La Seca - the theatre for this evening's performance, and let me just say, it was delightful!  It was The Magic Flute performed A CAPELLA by six people in just over an hour.  And of course, it was in Spanish (not Catalan... one of the reasons I chose this performance).  It was energetic and clever and just a really pleasant way to spend an evening (but for the lack of AC... which they had to turn off so the singers could hear each other.  Selfish).
By the end of the show, my head was a little swimmy from the heat, so I headed back to the hotel, grabbed some chips and candy out of a vending machine, a Heineken out of the honor bar (2 euros well spent), and settled in for the evening.
I'm intimidated by this whole thing, but I think I might also be inspired.  And I think I'm already exhausted enough for it to be Thursday.  But it's only Tuesday.  Woof.

Barcelona Begins

Steps: 26107
Miles: 8.24
Km:13.06

That's right, folks, I found my pedometer!

To be honest, I don't have much to post about yet.  I had my impossibly long feeling day of travel, complete with four hour layover in Paris.  I must have walked around the little F terminal a zillion times just trying to stay awake... which I did successfully... mostly.  I'm fairly certain there were a few Zs caught in good ol' CDG.  But I finally arrived in Spain, claimed my luggage and found a cab... which is when I realized my big problem: I am used to speaking Russian to people in these sort of cursory exchanges.  The endless string of "thank you" and "please" and "good morning" and "excuse me"...it's all a knee-jerk reaction now.  So I'm Russianing the heck out of all these poor Spaniards, when I actually have the skills to have a full on conversation in Spanish.  And yet, the first thing that always springs to mind is a good Спасибо or Нет.  Then, for whatever reason, random French and German words pop in, like they're jealous or something.  And I just sound like a crazy person...and I definitely don't sound like someone who can function in Spanish.  It's really too bad... it would be exciting on my first excursion to a Spanish-speaking country to involve a little Spanish speaking on my part.  But we'll see...the week is still young!

My first night in the hotel was rough.  The hotel's not great - it's not bad, but it certainly does not live up to its website.  So that was a bit of a disappointment.  And then, when the fire alarm went off around 9:30 (which was, of course, about 2 and a half hours after my jet-lagged hiney had gone to bed), I sat bolt upright and fumbled my way down the stairs to find out what was going on.  It turns out, the desk person had accidentally set off the fire alarm while she was trying to figure out why the entire building had lost electricity.  Awesome.  So, I managed to fall asleep again, and the AC was working again by the time I woke up at 2:00 in the morning, so that's something.  So I sat up reading for a bit before falling back to sleep and sleeping really well, so I think I'm pretty much on Spanish Standard Time now.  Huzzah!

Today was a pretty full day.  I got up for some hotel breakfast, did some more reading, then headed down to find the Institut de Teatre so I could check in for the conference.  Then I walked back up to the hotel, grabbed a light lunch, and walked over to the Hard Rock Cafe in the Plaça de Catalunya, where I was to meet up with our tour group for a tour of the old part of the city.  It took some time to find the group, but eventually we managed to gather, and we headed out for a three hour tour (a three hour tour!).  We saw so many sights and wound around through so many little side streets, I would find the path entirely impossible to replicate, but we sure saw a lot.  I want to head back down to that area some time this week for a little gift shopping.  We'll see if that's in the cards.  I would really hate it if all my family gifts had to come from the shops at the airport.  But it's going to be a busy week... so we'll have to see how strong the shopping force is with me.  I chatted with a few people on the tour, but it's always so awkward at these things.  There was one young woman from Munich who I spent most of the day with, so hopefully I'll run into her again.

After the tour I walked back to the hotel (since I won't be doing much running this week, I'm taking every opportunity to walk instead of take the metro... so go me!), grabbed some dinner on the way, and just settled in for the night.  Tomorrow things get started in earnest... Right at 9:00 we dive into the first working group meeting.  <gulp>

Going out with a BANG

Today was a hot hot hot hot day.  We started out with a little trip to Novodevichy Cemetery where Stanislavsky, Nemirovich-Danchenko, Chekhov, and Olga Knipper Chekhova are buried, among other Russian luminaries.  I always make sure to buy a flower for good ol’ Olga too – I feel like she gets forgotten.  I probably should have grabbed a flower for Lilina – Stanislavsky’s wife – too, but I think I already made the woman at the flower shop crazy paying for the flowers with the tiniest change.  But I used up almost all of my change!

After that, we jumped back on the metro and headed to Ismaelovo Park – the giant market where one can find every Russian souvenir that has ever souvenired in the history of souvenirs.  I wasn’t able to find a ring to replace the ring I bought last year (it broke… sadness), so I actually spent no money at this giant flea market.  It felt wrong… and also a little liberating.

After the park we metroed it back to the dorm for a little bit of time to ourselves before heading out to an earth shattering final performance of the month – an invited audience preview of Dmitry Krymov’s new piece based on Chekhov’s Three Sisters.  Yes... we were seeing this in its "not quite ready for primetime" state - a new work by one of the most exciting directors working in Russia (possibly the world) today.  It was a devastating, fascinating, hilarious, amazing evening of theatre.  When we walked into the space there were chairs in a pile in the middle, and it wasn’t until all those chairs had been un-stacked and placed in the round around that space that the show was ready to begin.  And boy did it begin!  They started out with a procession carrying a dead body (which they quickly chucked offstage), and just took off from there.  All of the actors were grotesque in some way – with fake noses, fake fingers, hunched backs, weird hair…it was a bizarre world of Three Sisters, and it was immediately fascinating.  Chebutykin’s entrance was positively terrifying – he was a huge, spherical beast of a man, and he was covered in blood.  I can’t even begin to describe all the astounding images they used in this production.  Whether it was three-armed Chekhov, or pregnant Andrei and constantly breast-feeding Natasha, or magical moving teacups, or magical teacups that burst into flames or crazy family tree projections, or Protopopov creepily watching over everyone, or Marlene Dietrich, or a brilliant cameo by a live rooster, or Tuzenbach engaging Masha in a chicken dance, or Chebutykin obliterating their mother’s clock, or a very strange number of dead birds for this not being a production of The Seagull…there was just too much happening...and in the most amazing, inspiring, soul-crushing way possible.  It was all too brilliant and too beautiful.  And then, when the actors all sat in a circle removing their grotesque makeup but somehow still being the characters too, I started to cry.  And I kept crying for the last 20 minutes of the show.  And when Tuzenbach entered with his coffee, I thought everything was going to be okay… but it wasn’t… and I wept as Irina danced with his lifeless body… and then when the cast held him over their heads and walked him offstage just as they had walked the body on at the top of the show, I lost my frickin’ mind!  It was such an intimate and artistically expansive production… I couldn’t even contain myself.  And after the show, Dmitry Krymov came out, greeted us, signed the giraffe patterned scarf of a student who has a grant to study his work, and took a group picture with us.  It was maybe a perfect evening. 

Blurry but still awesome photo of the group with Dmitry Krymov - contemporary effin' GENIUS

After we all stumbled home – completely intoxicated from the theatre we had just witnessed, we had our final pot luck, then disbursed for some poster distribution, beer drinking and general bonding and frivolity.  The group even presented me with a little gift they had gotten me – a set of CCCP shot glasses.  I was already so emotionally frail at that point, I’m surprised I didn’t just burst into tears right then and there.  It was just really sweet.  I love this group!  (And if any members of my prior groups happen to be among the seven and a half people who read this blog, I love you too… well… most of you anyway…)

The End is Here

Well… as of today, the formal elements of our association with the MXAT are at an end.  We started off with our final film history class wherein we followed Russian film up to what is happening today.  We grabbed a photo and a quick lunch – the PhDs spent lunch with JT talking about what we’ve learned this week – and then we met back up for our acting class conferences.  This is an opportunity for each of us to sit individually with Sergei and Ilja and hear about what they observed over the course of the month.  It’s a really lovely little tradition where we have the chance to “look each other in the eye once more,” as Sergei says and just check in on the whirlwind that has been our month in Moscow. 

After my conference, I hoofed it back to the dorm in the sweltering heat, picked up some bags of bizarrely flavored Lay’s chips for my friend Peter, took a shower, and did a little work on my paper.  Unfortunately, the internet has been down since late last night, so I’m not able to do a lot of things that I would like to do – like post to my blog, for example – but it was not to be.  So I typed a little anyway, worked on my script a bit, made some dinner, and got ready for our penultimate night at the theatre!  This time around it was Носорог (Rhinoceros) at the Fomenko.  It’s an imaginative, funny, exciting production… though the second act does get bogged down in French philosophy… a lot.

On the way out of the theatre we encountered a giant rainstorm, so we ran for the metro, got soaked, made our way home, and I had some late night pasta and ice cream.  Then I squatted in the second floor stairwell… which is where I had to go in order to get any damn internet.  But still, overall, it was a pretty good day.  

Vanya and Juliet and Coriolanus, oh my!

Well… I let this week get away from me blog wise!  Yeesh!  So the seven and a half of you who read this, go ahead and buckle up for another long one!

Tuesday was a strange day because, in the midst of all these lasts, we had a first – our first stage combat class.  I would tell you our teacher’s name, but it was the first thing he said to us and we hadn’t yet adjusted to his accent, so none of us caught it.  It’s maybe Vladislav or Slava or Stanislas… or possibly Jim.  Who knows.  Whatever the case, he is a bear of a man who took us through a master class.  It might be both a good and bad thing that we get to the end the month punching each other.  But either way, it sure is a fun thing.

After combat we grabbed lunch and headed back for acting…sort of.  We did the group etudes (I had a little cameo as one of our acting teachers.  Once he realized that I was being him he could hardly contain himself…and then apparently he made fun of my accent.).  But after the etudes, the PhDs went off to meet with Sergei to talk about teaching acting while the rest of the group continued working with Ilja.  Then we all came together at the end of the class for more Chekhov etudes.  I think mine was pretty successful… so that was a nice way to sort of end that part of the month for myself.

After class we headed back to the Satirikon for a little-known play called Romeo and Juliet which just opened this month.  It was featuring a lot of students from the MXAT, so it was cool to see them again.  And the production was very interesting.  First of all, it was set in a half pipe/skate park/amusement park that may well have been on the moon… so that was a little strange.  But in general, it provided a great setting for the onslaught of young and dumb that was to be the three hours’ traffic of their stage.  The actors who played Romeo and Juliet were positively delightful – the energy of their experiences of each other was so manic – it really made them feel like crazy, hormone driven kids rather than the high-minded lovers that so many productions try to transform them into.  They were positively acrobatic in their expression of love for each other, and as one of the MFAs pointed out, Friar Lawrence had a hard time keeping them from making out long enough to marry them.  I really liked that interpretation.  Now, I wasn’t as keen on the giant clown face projections or the roller coaster on which Capulet came and went (and that Mercutio rode into oblivion after his 4 hour death scene), but the death scene at the end was well worth the price of admission.  It was really lovely.  And aside from the giant bolt of lightning that struck to end the fighting over their bodies (it was all my row could do not to laugh out loud at the clichéd moment), it had a really nice ending.  I learned a lot about the play from this production and really actually cared about these dumbass kids for one of the first times ever.

Wednesday started out with our final morning of Russian Folk Dance… but our translator didn’t show up.  So poor Irina was on her own with our uncoordinated selves.  I did manage to translate some of her instructions to help with the flow of the class, so I was feeling pretty useful from a language perspective if not from a getting my feet to do what they’re told perspective.  Then it was off to singing for our final “recital” for each other.  I always love this class, since we’re pretty much separate for the whole month of singing, so it’s a cool chance to get to see what everyone else has been working on.

After lunch we met up for our final acting class, presented our etudes, talked about the month, and a few people stood up and taught some exercises, which were mostly a lot of fun and great for the ensemble.  Then we did our last few Chekhov etudes and headed out – half home, and half of us to the Arbat where we grabbed Blinis for dinner (oh, Teremok, how I’ve missed you!) and saw Uncle Vanya at the Vakhtangov Theatre.  It is a very artistic and important production that has won lots of awards, but it’s not a very joyful production.  That’s one thing I find over here – even in the most dire of plays, you still feel the joy of the performances.  Not in this one, quite so much though.  Still, there are some beautiful images in the show, and it caps off our collection of all of the four major Chekhov plays.  Go team!

Thursday morning started off with our second and final stage combat class wherein we did a good deal of punching and kicking each other in the face, with a few head butts thrown in for good measure.  Then we gathered for our last theatre history lecture before a little reception to celebrate the month.  The afternoon was pretty much ours, so several people went out touristing, though I went back to the dorm with every intention of getting some work done.  Of course, Moscow is in the midst of a heat wave the last couple of days, so the walk home was unendurable, so I just took a shower and fell asleep until it was time to get ready for the theatre.  So the group met up and headed off to the Satirikon for King Lear, but since I’ve seen it twice, I decided to go to the School of Dramatic Arts for a production of Coriolanus.  And let me tell you who had a better night at the theatre: the rest of my group did.  This Coriolanus was amazingly unskilled and choppy.  All the lightness and grace I’ve become so accustomed to in the actors here was utterly lacking.  There were some creative moments of staging, but by and large it was a play about people yelling, uncoordinated interpretive dance, and more doors than a French farce.  Coriolanus flew around, hanging five stories up only by his arm - no harness.  The body stockings flattered no one.  The two minutes devoted to getting one of the conspirators into his scrubs was painful...and watching the two of them crawl  out of the pit...well... I wasn't sure either was actually fit enough to make it.  Oh... and there was the actress who looked like Samantha Bee... but seemed like Samantha Bee putting on the act of being in a really earnest but thoroughly sub-par production.  And boy, did they abuse the elevator in the space.  I was sitting there through the second act begging them to kill Coriolanus already.  I’m glad I saw it so that I don’t have to wonder… but damn… it was rough.  

Then it was back to the dorm for some sleep… in the hot hot hot hot dorms.  I think Moscow is getting hot to try to make it easier for us to leave this land of so little air conditioning.  

The Final Countdown

Our last full Monday in Moscow!  Already!  Finally!  Time moves so strangely here, this whole final week is so full of mixed feelings of “How can I ever leave?!” and “It’s really time to go.”  Today had those moments in spades. 

I woke up exhausted after our excitement with urgent care last night, and headed down for singing.  We had a substitute translator… and let me tell you, translating for Marina is not the easiest gig for a translator.  Poor Boris looked like a deer in headlights.  Most of the time I understand Marina and don’t need translating, so he sort of dropped out as we were working my song (I managed to go first), and once I was done, I headed out to pick up a prescription for Susie (ah… clever pseudonym) and brought it back to her at the dorm (she had decided to stay off the leg for most of today).  Then I headed back down to the MXAT where there was a lot of grouchiness about a weird situation that is definitely not blogworthy, but is absolutely frustration worthy.  I guess I’ll just say I wish people would stop trying to draw lines in the sand between theatrical disciplines.

Then it was time for acting class, which had its ups and its downs.  We did some really good work, and some really frustrating work.  We got some really good instructions, and some really opaque instructions.  Then we participated in this weird staged photo shoot for a brochure or something, and did a few Chekhov etudes before calling it a day.  At that point I turned over the tickets for tonight’s show (the ballet Giselle at the Stanislavsky/Nemirovich-Danchenko Music Theatre) to one of my PhD cohorts, gave her directions to the theatre, and booked it back to the dorm to see if Susie was up for making the trek to the ballet.  She met me in the kitchen all dressed and ready to go, so I escorted her down to the theatre, met up with the group, and left them there.  This was a show for which I was only able to get 13 reasonably priced tickets, so one person took a bullet and bought a more expensive ticket, and one student and I opted out of the show altogether.  Now, this is a beautiful theatre, and the show is performed by one of the best ballet companies in Russia... which is to say one of the best ballet companies in the world... but I have to admit, while there are a lot of ways that I like to be told a story, it turns out that ballet is not really one of them.  So I was pretty much fine with bowing out of this one in favor of a night to myself.

I had all these grand plans about working on my paper and my script… but I ended up taking a shower, making a sandwich, having ice cream and beer (my Moscow comfort foods) and taking a nap.  I continue to feel like I’m in a very deep hole, and I’m not sure when I’m going to manage to find a way out… but it had better be soon!