Leads from Smart Friends... Thank you!

Michael Redhill - Volcano In Rwanda - Blog:

http://volcanoinrwanda.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html

ABOUT THIS BLOG

VOLCANO

TORONTO, CANADA

This is the story of a Canadian play traveling to Rwanda to take part in a theatre and music festival. The play is Goodness, by Michael Redhill. The festival is Arts Azimuts, organised by Odile Gakire Katesi (aka "Kiki"). 2009 is the 15th anniversary year of the Rwandan genocide, and Kiki's theme for programming is "Culture and Conflicts: genocide, slavery and apartheid". Goodness is a play about genocide, but we have only ever played this story in the West (Toronto, Edinburgh, New York, Vancouver). We have no idea what the Rwandan audience will think of us... My name is Ross Manson. I am the director of Goodness.

Look into "Arts Azimuts" festival...

A taste from the blog of what I hope to find:

"In a cab back from the theatre, I have my first conversation about the genocide. Gloria grew up in Uganda, exiled. She was a child when the genocide began. Her father escaped with her. They walked to Uganda. She is now the only relative her father has left. Rick asked her where she feels her home is. Nowhere, she says. In Uganda, she was called a foreigner. In Rwanda, she speaks the native language only haltingly. She is caught between places.

But she is radiant, and very good at her job."

Brent Blair

M.A. Pacifica Graduate Institute
Associate Professor of Theatre Practice and Director of M.A. in Applied Theatre Arts

Brent Blair is a Linklater-designated voice instructor and a former Fulbright Scholar in the Igbo traditional theatre of West Africa. He founded the Applied Theatre Arts focus at the School of Theatre and is the founding director of the Center for Theatre of the Oppressed and Applied Theatre Arts in Los Angeles, based on the works and training methods of Augusto Boal. He has formed numerous collaborative and curricular programs that partner with community members using theatre as a vehicle for education, therapy, and social change. Brent Blair teaches courses in Voice, Theatre for Youth, Theatre and Therapy, Theatre in Education and Theatre in the Community.

Some words from the Cornerstoners on a workshop with Blair (the bolding is my imposition):

I'm just home from a beautiful workshop led by Brent Blair, USC professor and practitioner of Augusto Boal's Theater of the Oppressed. We were seventeen total -- 8 members of TJSF and 9 others -- and the workshop was conducted bilingually. Brent began by having everyone sit in a circle. He said, "I'd like to start with a quote from Boal... this is something he used to say at the beginning of all of his workshops." He looked looked around the circle and said, "Come closer." He beckoned us with his hands the way Boal must have and said, "Come closer..." This may sound silly, but this resonated with me on a few levels. It was a profound invitation. In a way I feel this is what I look for in both art and friendships: an invitation to come closer. To be closer. We accepted his invitation.

Next, we were invited to discuss our reasons for wanting to be there. I, for one, was interested in learning more about the TO methodology and how we may use -- or may already be using -- it in the work of TJSF. Brent specified that we would be focusing on the day labor community during the workshop and defined three levels of participants: first level participants are those day laborers who have experienced some form of oppression; second level participants are those who have family members or friends in the day community who have experienced oppression; third level participants are those who do not share these experiences, but who are present in the room and have a voice and an interest in "el movimiento" (the movement), a phrase Brent used several times. To me, this "movement" could have been taken to mean either the worker movement or the immigrant movement, but I also took it to mean a larger spiritual movement happening on the planet. Whether or not Brent intended this, I don't believe he would object to me offering this interpretation. What took place during the workshop was a step forward for each of these movements.

Brent spoke about Paulo Freire's work in Brazil and Freire's idea of "concientaziation," a process that rejects the "banking system" of education in which a teacher fills empty vessels, advocating instead the neo-Platonic idea that we already have ideas within us and that an educator's role is to draw out these things we already know. Brent led our discussions in this spirit and his facilitation was both inclusive and affirming. He spoke of voice work with Kristin Linklater -- how it's not about assimilation or acquisition, it's about freeing our natural voice, the voice we had as babies and then lost. (Much to our delight, Brent was not shy about demonstrating this natural baby voice...)

We discussed what it meant to be a subject vs. an object. Brent had Luis, one of the group members, come up and demonstrate: "Luis punches Brent in the arm." Luis punched Brent (lightly) then Brent asked, "Who is the subject in the sentence?" Luis, we said. Yes, said Brent, he's the oppressor; he's the one with the power. "Who is the object?" asked Brent. You are, we said. "Why?" he asked. "Because you're the one who recieves the action," said Dorian, another group member. Brent pointed out that the work of the Theater of the Oppressed empowers people in communities by making them the active participant (subject) rather than the passive participant (object). For more on this, read Boal's Theater of the Oppressed. It's excellent.

Then we played games! We played a group mirroring game in which people took turns being the "subject" by making gestures and sounds while the rest of the group followed. Then we played "Colombian Hypnosis" in partners, a game in which partner A holds her hand six inches from partner B's face and partner A moves her hand around while partner B has to keep his face six inches from her hand -- no matter where that hand goes. Brent joked about how cruel we could be to one another, forcing our partners' into some of the most awkward positions. The we switched roles, a moment Brent called "retribution" for partner B.

We created statues with our bodies, representing our own personal images of oppression, those we've both experienced and witnessed. We brought them to life. We analyzed the images, labeled them, developed some common vocabulary. Then we broke for lunch.

After lunch we identified eight protagonists -- those who identified themselves as day laborers -- and eight scenes that represented a story of injustice or oppression. At this point we happened to have eight other workshop participants, so each person (me included) played an antagonist in each of the scenes. When you play the protagonist, Brent was careful to point out, it's important for you to be clear on what you want and to continue to fight for that. When you play the antagonist, he said, it's important to be subtle... we don't want any Disney villains, he said. It's also important to show what the antagonist is afraid of (a great reminder for me both as an actor and as a writer).

We performed our scenes for one another. We shared feedback. We thanked one another. Finally we came together in a circle.

In closing, we each had an opportunity to share one thing we observed and one thing we were grateful for. One participant was reminded of how many stories there are in the world and the power of theater to tell those stories. We won't be able to share them all in five hours or even in a lifetime, he said, but I'm grateful to have had this time to share these with you.

I shared this:

I feel like some Theater of the Oppressed seeds have were planted in the work TJSF has been doing... this workshop felt like a whole lot of water. I'm grateful for that water. At the same time, I'm thirsty to explore so much more. I felt, as I often do when exploring in a new discipline that interests me, that in learning something new I become aware of how much more I don't know. So I'm grateful for this thirst. This hunger. I come away with a new perspective on at least three new unanswerable questions:

Why do people suffer? What does healing look like? Must we heal?

There is a double meaning in the last one that I particularly like.

Tyler Seiple writes:

Thank you, Ethan, for sharing your gift with us.

As one of those who had neither first nor second level experience of the oppression of day laborers, I didn't know what to expect from my five hours at Cornerstone. What story would I tell if called upon to share something? How could I take part in a discussion from which I was seemingly double removed?

As Brent ably, gently, and effectively reminded us, we're all equals of the discussion as soon as we allow ourselves to contribute. By coming together to share ourselves and our stories in the context of the theatre, we establish a dialogue that transcends language, culture, or the socioeconomic ties that oppress us, in some cases more subtly than others. Brent’s methodology took the already welcoming environment of TJSF and invited the audience to assume the role of what Boal called the “spect-actor,” in which seeming outsiders became an integral part of the theatrical process itself. I went from feeling like a third-degree scholar or inquisitor to the immensely empowering and moving feeling of being a first-hand witness and storyteller – all thanks to the self-actualizing forum of the theatre.

I love Ethan’s larger scope for “el movimiento,” beyond one cultural perspective or one context of struggle. I now feel I am part of “el movimiento” on a more global, spiritual scale, a movement of consciousness, awareness, and energy that is changing the way I see the world and the way the world sees me. And what better place to feel the glimmering changes that result from profound shifts in the world than in the laic sanctity of the theatre? The theatre allows us all to share our voices and aspire for something larger and more universal, united by our common desires and passions, no matter how removed our experience.

This workshop also opened my eyes to ways in which I am oppressed. The most oppressive mindset of all is that of “I can’t help,” and Brent’s methodology quickly revealed how creativity can overcome the oppression of fear, perceived threats, and stereotype. By sharing my voice and hearing the powerful voices of others, I can overcome the oppression that exists in the security of inaction, the comfort of getting by, and the naïveté of individual limitations. The theatre liberates us to communicate and share in an environment where we set the tone, scope, and parameters of discourse – and there need be only as many limits as we set on ourselves.

Thank you to Brent, Ethan, TJSF, Cornerstone, and everyone else at the workshop for an amazing experience. I was truly honored to take part.

I am already a part of “el movimento.” I am able to make important changes. And I am already witnessing incredible things happening.

Tyler

Who are the potential "levels" of people who would be involved in this?:

- Those who experienced the genocide first-hand

- Those who were too young during the genocide to have remembered the experience, but were living in Rwanda at the time and have immediate family who DO remember the experience (Does this group actually exist?)

- The generation of Rwandans born POST-genocide

- Non-Rwandans who have a stake in the post-genocide Rwandan community or an interest in using theatre as a vehicle for people to speak their own stories, Theater of the Oppressed,Theatre for Social Justice or Change (what's the difference? Is there one?), or using theatre as a means to move forward or heal.

- People of all walks of life who find themselves in the same place we are and just want to play.

I want to play games.

We need ACTIVE participation form community members.

What is our common vocabulary going to be? How do we create it?

I feel like Tyler's words in particular help me with this question of: why do I want to do this? What is my link, my connection to this? My right to do this? Can it be as simple as: I want to hear these peoples' stories? I want to listen? I want to provide an opportunity for these stories to be spoken aloud and shared and to play in the face of horrors past.

I think I also feel challenged by the fact that I am a world away from Rwanda, and have always existed a world away from genocide - perhaps not entirely true in every respect, but it certainly feels that way. This challenge, this distance, inspires me. My instinct, when things are far away, is to move closer.

I want to look at something I haven't really looked at before. Even more, I want to connect to it. I want to be complicit. I want to listen to a story and just by listening become complicit, a part of a new community.

It's like Tyler says, "united by our common desires and passions, no matter how removed our experience."

Healing Through Remembering (Northern Ireland):

A useful website:

http://www.tonisant.com/aitg/Boal_Techniques/

Workshops:

http://www.mandalaforchange.com/totraining2012.htm

http://www.headlinestheatre.com/trainings.htm

A quote from this same website on T. O.:

Designed for non-actors, it uses the universal language of theatre as a springboard for people and whole communities to investigate their lives, identify their dreams, and reinvent their future.

This idea of investigating life, identifying dreams and re-inventing the future is really fascinating to me in the context of this project. Let's talk about what it's like now, let's talk about what you want it to be, what you hope for (both individually and as a community), then let's talk about how to make it happen.

A NOTE FOR MYSELF: DO ONE THING AT A TIME (I just interrupted my previous thought to right that. Damn.)