"What I Know" by Danielle Diaz

“Somebody once said, ‘To write well, you have to write what you know.’ Well, here is what I know...” Never Been Kissed

            When arriving in Ireland I had no idea what to expect and perhaps this is best because then I would have no expectations failed to be met. Well, this is not exactly true. If I did have any kind of expectation for Ireland it would be to leave here having learned something and I do not necessarily mean from a book or in a class although these are great and most obvious jumping off points. What I wanted was to learn something about life, something that would make me a different person, a better person (as cliche as that sounds) and with the following four experiences I believe it safe to say that my only expectation was highly met.

            The first piece that I would like to discuss is Rian. In all honesty, I had no idea as to what it was that I was about to watch. I believe it was not until the day of that I found out it was a dance piece. This little discovery made me quite happy because although acting is my dream I love dance. I love to dance. For myself, it is something that is so freeing. It is the only time that I truly feel like nothing or no one else in the world matters, a time when I can take a break from living in my head, concerning myself with what other people are thinking or doing, and just be in the moment. When watching Rian I was doing just that, living in this moment of music and dance. I cannot recall one time when I was thinking ‘what does that mean?’ or ‘why was that done?’ which I often find myself doing during a performance be it a dance, play or what have you therefore disrupting any full enjoyment I might get out of just simply witnessing what is before me. Still more, however, is the fact that when I do dance it is almost always to what is mainstream, music that is familiar to me otherwise I find it slightly more difficult to get into that feeling of just being in the moment. Throughout the performance of Rian though, I found myself constantly tapping my feet and clapping along to the beat of the music. There were numerous times in fact when I wanted to jump out of my seat and dance regardless of the people around me and the lack of a conventional dance floor. This surprised me due to the aforementioned statement of only being able to truly enjoy dancing when the music is familiar to me. After some thought I realized, and by no means is this a groundbreaking revelation, that music, whether it is what you recognize or you do not, can transcend boundaries like that of language, culture, country or whatever it may be. The enjoyment and pleasure of music and dance is universal. Rian choreographer Michael Keegan-Dolan appeared to be more than well aware of this when casting dancers from various backgrounds and incorporating influences from what he referred to as faraway places. Despite these facts, it was not until the shows finale, in which the audience members were invited up onto the stage to join in the dance, that my feelings and thoughts seemed to be justified. There were no rules or regulations, questions of who you were or where you were from but simply a matter of coming together and sharing this enjoyment that is evoked by music and dance.

UC Berkeley onstage at "Rian"

            Now to transition from an event that made me stop and not think to a person who made me stop and really think. Aoife Spillance-Hinks was an absolute joy to come and listen to. She had a lot to say just from within her twenty-something years of life experiences. However, there were two things that really stood out for me. The first was when she was describing her experience going from her undergraduate studies to her graduate studies and how the range of ages differed quite vastly once she had reached graduate school. This struck a cord within me due to the fact that I am a little older than your average undergraduate student and although the difference in age between myself and most of my fellow classmates is not one of staggering proportions there is still this sense of isolation, a feeling I bring mostly upon myself as opposed to it coming from any outside sources. However, it is also due to this fact that Aoife had mentioned of pressure and having to have something such as college done by a certain age regardless if you know what it is that you want to do with your life or not. In specific reference to the story she told about the 60-year-old female classmate she had in grad school and the experiences this woman was able to bring to the classroom I would assume that her hiatus from institutional education helped greatly in her decision to go back to school either in that it would expand her knowledge on her particular focus or allow her the opportunity to utilize it towards something completely new. Whatever the case my be it helped me to realize that I should be more confident about the decision I made and that allowing myself time as well as garner my own experiences was beneficial in figuring out the direction in which I wanted to take my life. The second thing that stood out for me was nearing the end of the talkback in which Aoife had mentioned if you have a true passion for something you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to reach your goal, even if that means starting at the very bottom and having to go fetch someone’s coffee. It may not be the best job but it is a humbling experience and highlights a drive within you. You cannot just sit around and wait for life to happen to you, you have to go out there and make it happen for you.

            Next, I would like to fast forward through the days from one visiting guest theater-maker to another . . . or rather, two others. I must admit that I was not too excited about the day we were going to spend with the duo known as Brokentalkers and that was primarily due to the fact that there work is contemporary which I tend to somewhat associate with abstract or absurd. In other words, art that I do not understand and therefore find it a little difficult to appreciate. I am a fan of traditional storytelling, always have been. However, by the end of class that Friday my horizons were broadened. What I enjoyed about their visit was primarily the experience of witnessing as well as participating in what it is exactly that goes into making the kind of theater that they do. Obviously, being a part of their theater-making process helped me to better understand the types of performances that they put on but it also gave me the opportunity to see how the performances are made. When watching a performance that is along the lines of what Brokentalkers produce I am always asking myself ‘how do you even come up with something like that?’ I have now witnessed the stepping stones. More importantly, though, I have also garnered a further sense of respect for the work that they do. Regardless of whether I understand a certain type of performance, I always want to walk away with a form of respect that went into making the performance because it is hard work and if I appreciate nothing else I want to at least appreciate that.

            Lastly, I have reached one of our most recent events, that of Miss Pandora “Panti” Bliss and her drag show at the Panti Bar. Prior to that night I had never seen a drag show so I was looking forward to the experiencing of something new. The skits and dance numbers were kind of silly and fun, Panti spotlighting our group at times made me feel a little special and allowing us to dance on the stage at the end of the night was fantastic. All in all, I would say it was a great night--until discussion Monday morning.  Although I had read Panti’s article “A Women in Progress” I did not make a connection between what she was stating about her dislike for the New Gay and our group going to her drag show primarily for the sake of our entertainment. What she was trying to get across within that portion of the article did not become clear to me until some had confessed within class discussion that they felt like we were intruding upon a place where we clearly did not belong and/or did not understand. After such statements were made I could not help but ask would I have enjoyed myself as much had not grown up and been surrounded by a gay culture that is highly commercialized and commodified or better yet, would I have even gone in the first place? With statements such as, “Being gay pushed me to think . . .and from it came a lust for life and all it could be,” “what was liberating and honesty to me, is sad and shameful to the New Gay,” “our sexuality awakened us,” and “being gay used to mean being a part of a fire of creativity and exploration” as well as her discussion of being part of a generation “who came of age under the shadow of AIDS,”  I could not help but feel guilty for laughing at and cheering obnoxiously for something that is not just simply and purely a form of entertainment for Panti and those who know and understand where she is coming from. What she does has meaning behind it despite how silly it may seem from a surface level point-of-view. Furthermore, I am grateful for my feeling of guilt because it proves that I have learned something and that is that I want to and need to start questioning everything, not just accept it as is.

              The reason for my choosing these four particular experiences was due to that each one allowed me to walk away with something that I had not possessed before and it is something that did not necessarily pertain to what each experience was specifically dealing with at hand but to my life in general and that to me is priceless. My brother-in-law had once told me buying things such as clothes or shoes was a waste of money, that I should instead travel, go out and see the world because although the material items may last a lot longer tangibly there is nothing that could ever replace life’s lessons learned and memories made. 

The author, Danielle Diaz, Kambrya Blake, and Moni Wright

"Drag and Re-Invisioning Gender" by Maya Miesner

On Saturday evening, July 7, I hiked across the River Liffey to the Pantibar to see the one and only Miss Pandora “Panti” Bliss perform in her much-talked-about weekly drag show. I entered the experience never having seen a live drag show (only a few episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race), and wasn’t quite sure how it would differ from what my very limited, commercially influenced view of what it meant to perform in drag. Much to my delight, I found Panti and her fellow performers not only hilarious, fun, and entertaining, but also deeply thought provoking and inspirational. In watching the show, I found that drag performance as entertainment is a profound way of destabilizing fixed notions of identity formation, challenging the way in which these categories are socially constructed, and creating a space for the envisioning and realization of social ideals.

Miss Panti Bliss

Find out more about Pantibar at http://www.pantibar.com/

            One issue that I felt the performance put pressure on was that of voyeurism: what does it mean to gather in a space with a large group of people and expect to be “entertained” through the viewing of other’s individuals “performing” bodies? In thinking about the expectations held by me and my classmates before arriving, and our perhaps overzealous excitement to see the show, I think the question of voyeurism is unavoidable. I first realized this when we walked into the pub, and the bouncer, while checking our IDs, said, “You know this is a gay bar, right?” Although we all seemed mildly baffled as to why he would think this would phase us, it soon became a little more clear what he meant as we entered to find that the vast majority of the club consisted of middle-aged, white, gay men. While I don’t think this really deterred anyone from feeling happy to be there, I have to say that I did feel like somewhat of an intruder. In a large group of American college students, mostly female, we not only stuck out, but I suspect that we also looked somewhat like we were there to “see the spectacle.” 

However, once the show started I began to feel differently. I realized that drag as entertainment invites, and uses our voyeuristic “gaze” as a tool for social commentary: In the act of watching, we are consciously being asked to engage and think critically about the social construction of gender. I think this idea is ingeniously illustrated in the show through the use of lip-synched songs. To me, this was a carefully chosen act that parallels the performances of the bodies onstage: the drag queens, like the way they comically lip-synch, draw attention to the fact the fact that the gender they display on stage is a performance. Of course to point to their performance of their gender is not to imply an illegitimacy of transgender bodies, but to say that, as entertainment, drag is used to remind us that gender is constructed, not biological. And, in thinking about it, that is the very reason we come to see drag shows: because something about the deconstruction of gender interests us.

The use of continuous costume change also served as a reminder of the instability of binary gender throughout the show. Throughout the night, Panti changed her costume every time she entered the stage, and made several jokes about going to change her “rat’s nest of a wig.” The show also used a lot if homo-erotic innuendo, and although this could arguably be seen as a perpetuation of the over-sexualized gay male stereotype, I think that again, this is crucial to the almost Brechtian way of calling attention to the intentionally overt performance of gender in the show.  By forcing the audience to become aware of the “spectacle” that is intentionally created, we are asked the engage and think critically about the social construction of identity.

            However, thinking about drag as intentional “spectacle” is potentially problematic, especially considering that the gender being performed is female. While it could be argued that, the representation of the sexualized female body on the stage only serves to perpetuate the problematic “gaze”, I think the Brechtian nature of the performance actually fights against this. Again, not only does the overt display of gender point itself as performance, but it arguably serves as a sort of parody of the objectification of the female body. In A Woman In Progress, Panti talks about how for a while  as a young adult she was a cartoonist, but that it was only the “obvious use of the things [I was] good at.” Later, she felt she achieved a fuller realization of her talents by performing in drag. I think this illustrates beautifully the purpose behind the use of the “female body as spectacle” in Panti’s drag show. The bodies we see on stage are presented as amplified versions of the “femme fatale”, rather than recreations. Because the genders performed onstage are “larger than life”, they, like a good cartoon, sketch and create an alternate, imagined version of the female gender, arguably a separate gender in itself, which subtlety and beautifully comments on the way gender is viewed in the context of modern Irish (and largely, Western) society.

Panti preparing to go onstage

            Here, I should take a second to clarify the distinction between drag as entertainment (specifically in the Pantibar) from the use of drag in everyday life, as well as other transgender identities. It is the performance space of the show itself that makes all the difference, because in asking for an audience, attention is purposefully called to bodies onstage, which are ultimately used towards an artistic purpose. Drag and transgender identities in the lived reality of everyday life are by no means “cartoonish,” unless of course that is an intentional choice of the individual. Subsequently, the performance of a transgender identity onstage, in no way delegitimizes it, but merely allows itself to become a bearer creative expression and creator of commentary.

            The most interesting moments in the show for me, however, were when, right before Panti would leave the stage for a quick change, she would tell us that her friend Bunny was going to “talk to about a little bit about transubstantiation!” I felt that this packed little phrase was a beautiful summation of the way in which the ideas are not only presented, but enacted within the show. Using a reference to the central event of the Catholic mass (aside from the fascinating address of a specifically Irish identity in the context of queer performance) works to conflate the image of the new “hyper-female” transgender identity to the literal transformation of the host into the flesh of Christ. The “hyper-female” body, at least in Panti’s show is a literal embodiment of an idealistic space, where queer gender performance is not only appreciated, but makes the audience think. This, in addition to numerous moments of called on audience participation, put into practice something akin to Jill Dolan’s “Utopian Performative”: in the performance space, we enact the world we want to see.

            Another intriguing aspect of the performance at the Panitbar, was the lip-synched performance of scene taken from various films and TV shows. Through the many hilarious and farcical scenes melodramatically performed by Panti and Bunny (ranging from Irish soap operas, to interviews with Stella McCartney, to scenes from Mommy Dearest), we saw the further development of the critique of constructed “social norms.” By employing extreme characterization (and lots of slapstick humor), the performers engaged in a sort of endearing mockery and reaction to the superficial and constructed images of “real people” that are mass-produced in the media, begging the question: who decides what is “real”? Through parody, Panti critiques media for disseminating cultural material that is at once unsubstantial and ultimately detrimental in the way that it reinforces limited and superficial ways of dealing with identity. By putting a number of different female stereotypes on display, Panti puts pressure on the cheap commodification of human interaction and character, and once again pokes at the instability of the normative social images that regulate and limit our view of appropriate social behavior.

            Ultimately though, I think the most important reason that Panti’s show works as a powerful form of critique, is that it fun. Through the spirited and comedic nature of the show, the performers use “play” (a crucial form of social development according to many social theorists) to test boundaries, to decide for ourselves what is “normal” and what is not. In the amusing and encouraging environment of the Pantibar, we are allowed to experiment, to test out new ideas, to reinvent old notions of how we relate to gender. In this way, the drag show intersects with years of Irish performance, as it acts out Yeats’ ideal of the theater as the “ultimate creator of all values.” Through the use of humor, Panti creates an inclusive environment that ultimately serves as a space where people are comfortable experimenting with, and re-imagining social values.

                  I walked away from the show feeling mildly, but pleasantly, surprised by what I had seen. Although I anticipated much of the camp, the melodrama and glitzy costumes, I had no idea how these components would be used as powerful vessels for larger social issues. As Panti herself says in A Woman in Progress, “…that’s all I am: a big, drunk, devastatingly attractive theatrical device.”  Ultimately, drag as entertainment not only makes important commentary about the construction of gender, but also helps open up the conversation about formation of identity, and the creation of social values. 

Emma Nicholls, Lauren Hart and Maya Miesner (the author) 

with friends at Pantibar

"Progression from Silence" by Galvin L. Mathis

Engaging in theatrical pieces from the literary, to active, and viewing the performances in Ireland has been an amazing experience that I will always cherish and remember. I believe that I am the first in my family to study abroad or even go to another country (from what I can recall). I have changed so much since making the decision of moving from L.A. to Berkeley and have learned a lot. Since being active in the Black community at Berkeley we have spoken about race so much and it has definitely been a change to engage in discussions surrounding gender and sexuality primarily. Learning a bit about race relations in Ireland has been great even though it has not been discussed as much as the aforementioned identities. But those discussions have been very rewarding. In my different experiences in pubs, discussing plays, and even going to Panti Bar, there seems to be an underlying theme of Ireland breaking away from its silence on many issues. It seems that those involved in theatre have been at the forefront of this as Uta Hagen would have liked and this progression will not only help Ireland to grow, but this is something America can learn as well.

When I first went through the terminal after leaving my plane, I was trying to form a game plan of what I was going to do so that I would not seem lost. I began to see pictures of different people on the wall and see the description of the different pictures throughout the terminal being that of Irish people. The photographer was doing a piece on the diversity of Ireland with a range in age and gender (identities I can easily see). I became disappointed when I did not see any Black faces or any other group of people in these pictures besides the typical white-faced, red/black-haired Irish person. I recalled the lecture in class which spoke about Ireland’s direct connection with Africa not only because of their humanitarian efforts, but because of their growing population of African emigrants in Ireland. Were they not Irish because their family were not directly from Ireland? Then I began to ask if they or any other race in Ireland even consider themselves to be Irish. We have such a conflict in America where many do not call themselves American because of historical race relations and there is the hyphenated American as well. Is there such a thing in Ireland?

As the days progressed, the class was given an assignment by Christine to interview the people of Ireland to record their accents so we can have our own dialect journal. We all set out to do our interviews and it was good craic speaking with the interviewees and starting that initial, awkward approach. After finishing the second part of the assignment, I began to question why I only went to those typical Irish faces I had seen on the pictures at the airport? Do people of a different race become Irish by birth and do they call themselves Irish? If they did, then should I not go to someone of my color to interview them? As of yet, I have not challenged myself to ask these questions of people directly but it is something I would like to know before leaving this country. These are some of the issues that seem to not get talked about amongst other things.

The question of being American and Irish for different ethnicities came to me more on Independence Day. I reminisced on how I was a child waiting for the fireworks to explode in the sky and having to calm down my dog because he would bark continuously. This was the day that America celebrated being free from Britain and while this was a great thing to celebrate, we realize in our history that America still owned slaves. A facebook quote by the famous Black comedian Chris Rock stated (paraphrased) “Happy White Independence Day. I’m sure their slaves enjoyed the fireworks as well.” There was a big uproar about it with both supporters and haters. The slaves did not become free until years later, and even now, many African-Americans are not treated as Americans, but as second class citizens which makes it easy to understand why some do not call themselves American.  It makes me wonder if there is such a history in Ireland where the asylum seekers and emigrants do not call themselves Irish because of their treatment here (which is rarely spoken of).

Ireland prides itself on their charitable efforts in Africa and the similarities in discrimination they both faced since they were the “Blacks of Europe.” With all that Ireland is doing in Africa, there is still discrimination against them which is not discussed because this side of the relationship is placed on the back burner. On Sunday I was able to see the Dublin Zoo and enjoyed it despite the rain (which limited the animals we were able to see). On the way there I see a bench with the words “No ni**er” on it. Of course racism is everywhere, but I was shocked to see it so close to a main attraction where families go and for the bench to not have been repainted. Then there were the group of guys at the chimpanzee exhibit saying “Look there’s Shaniqua and Sean Kingston.” I only heard it and didn’t see their faces, but it made me wonder how race is being discussed in this country (if they were Irish). There are instances of cultural ignorance around the world so I realize the unfairness of blaming a whole country for the stupidity of the few people.

There seems to be a culture of silence in Ireland regarding its history of conflict, race, gender and sexuality. Starting from the reading of Translations with Owen describing the history of Tobair Vree to Yolland and saying how he was the only person to know about it. It made me upset to see that he did not feel the need to let anyone else know about its history. This seems to be a general problem with the older generation who decide to keep quiet on their history and leaving the gap for this generation to fill since we are being affected by it. Coming from a generation that wants to discuss historical issues with different identities it is difficult to hear people beginning to discuss part of Irish history and then say, “…but we don’t talk about that.” This culture of silence can be seen in the history of the Laundries with the religious infrastructure. There were no questions asked regarding the treatment of the women within these Laundries which enabled not only the priests, but the nuns and sisters to control and abuse the women committed emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Different hierarchical structures were rarely (if at all) questioned during these times of conflict, abuse and discrimination which affects the way in which things are taught in the present.

Panti calls attention to this notion of not questioning different ideals in her mentioning of the New Gay. The New Gay involves a world where gay people have assimilated into the world and have accepted their place in society as the hairdresser, clothes designer, house remodeler, and more stereotypes imposed on gay people. Being gay has just become tolerated and has been limited to the acceptance of one type of gay for men especially. The feminine gay man that is sold by corporations as the only type of homosexuality in men has become emasculated as Panti states. There are gay men who may not come across as such because they can pass for being straight, which is not seen in the media. With this different aspect of the gay man not seen, this is where we see the gay man as emasculated instead of an expansion of what masculinity should be. Those gay men portrayed in the media by corporations are being sold as commodity (especially to the women) just as women are viewed as commodity for men. The New Gay definitely speaks to not only homosexuality, but the overall idea of a society unwilling to question what is being taught and how progress can be made.

Since being in Ireland, I have appreciated reading and viewing theatrical pieces that seek to question the things that need to be questioned and answer the questions which need answers. The theatre seems to be where social change has been happening for centuries and performances such as Wicked and The Lion King, while they are great musical performances, do not bring the issues associated with identity to the forefront. Those issues which were once silent are now coming to the open through various performances and I hope that this trend continues not only with the issues surrounding identity, but with the historical conflicts still present in Ireland. I believe that these pieces will begin the healing process that Ireland needs to become unified and it will be better equipped to tackle other issues involving identity. Reading about theatre being at the political forefront in Uta Hagen’s and viewing it through pieces such as Panti have been of great joy and has added so much to my experience in my life. I feel more knowledgeable to be able to hold these discussions within the Black community of Berkeley which is needed, given that we have our own code of silence which needs to be broken. 

Kasondra Walsh, Maya Miesner and Galvin L. Mathis (the author) 

at "An Evening of Folklore and Fairies"

Some Reflections on the Trip by Saba Bekele

“My name is Saba Bekele. I'm an English and Media Studies major, and this course is my first introduction into theatre.” I've uttered those words multiple times throughout this program, from the first day of class when we had to introduce ourselves till the last day when meeting new people. Prior to this summer my theatre resume included attending a few musicals, an Introduction to Theatre course (which I took about three years ago), and an elementary school production of The Wizard of Oz (where I played Toto). I am not an artist, I'm rarely an audience member, and I've never truly appreciated this art form...until now.

            I didn't have a sudden epiphany in the middle of a performance, there was no singular moment that transformed me, and I don't want to major in theatre. However, my newfound knowledge of what it takes to put on a production has more then earned my respect for those who chose to do so. I guess it all began with The Tower, a play that explores the friendship and bitter falling out between James Joyce and Oliver St John Gogarty. It was the first play we viewed in Dublin and there was a major wrinkle in the production. The actor who was suppose to play the role of Joyce was a no show, and the man who replaced him had never read through the entire script before he was called upon to perform it (an hour prior to the show I might add). He stepped out onto the stage, script in hand, and I sat there filled with dread and doubt. How was I suppose to suspend disbelief when I could hear the rustling of paper every time he turned a page? How was I suppose to believe he was James Joyce if he needed to read lines that he supposedly uttered? I refused to, I was determined not to, my mind was made up or so I had thought. The actor who accepted the role in the 25^th hour, to my surprise and benefit, rose to the challenge with such ease and grace. There weren't moments punctuated with silence because he lost his place (at least none that I noticed) or portions that were simply read out loud rather than acted. Was he perfect? No, but he was damn near close. Lines were jumbled, but I do that everyday with my own words. He was a true professional in every sense of the term, and the fact that he took the time to study his craft and honed his skills was evident in his work. The entire play could have been a complete disaster, but due to a lifetime of dedication and desire for theatre the “major wrinkle” in the production was thoroughly ironed out.

            How do you get there though? To a place where you're so well acquainted with your profession that you're able to rise to the occasion (if the occasion ever arrives). I pondered this question for most of my time in Dublin simply because it baffled me. Each production is unique, it will never be the same role or play or stage that poses the problem. Even if a production has a lengthy run where a performer repeatedly portrays the same character any number of incidents may arise, from wardrobe malfunctions to technical difficulties. Not to mention, the ever changing audience, which can alter a performance each night of its production. For instance, What the Folk! was heavily dependent on audience response and interaction, and since this was the case those involved had to not only be able to portray a role, but also divert from it in order to maintain the performance. It also incorporated text, music, and dance to assist with their objective, which was to deliver a production that would be able to answer the question, “what is folk?” In a way, they purposely set the stage for a performance that thrived on obstacles and that required them to employ their trained expertise in their craft.

            Brokentalkers, a Dublin based theatre company that devises, directs and produces original and accessible live performance, had a similar process that they enlisted prior to production. Just last week we had a 7 hour long workshop that basically broke down the process of constructing productions. In its infancy this entails a mixture of improv, raw ideas, and action. At the end of the workshop, we basically had to incorporate what we learned during the day (text, music, and movement) with our own experiences concerning displacement. There were many conflicts that arose, from an abundance of ideas to lack of time to insufficient organization. I am sure there is still much more to learn, but what I realized is there always will be when it comes to theatre because theatre is about creating, building, pushing, and expanding. So everyday you must create, build, push, and expand yourself. You must commit, whether this entails setting up the lights (rather than being in the spot light) in order to remain within close proximity of theatre as a whole, or establishing your own theatre company so that your able to produce the works you believe address the aspects that are important to you. There must be a need, a hunger that drives you to constantly want to better yourself and your work.

            I think we can all agree that theatre is an art. It requires talent, hard-work, and passion by those who chose to pursue a profession within it, but theatre is also a business. During our first week of class we read a serious of articles that summarized how Irish theatre came to be. These articles also outlined many of the obstacles faced by Yeats, Lady Gregory, and other individuals who attempted to establish a national theatre within Ireland. One of the main hurdles, then and now, is money. How to get, who to get it from, what to use it for, and the constant lack there of. In Our Irish Theatre by Lady Gregory, she points out the financial burdens that fell upon their attempts when they first began this endeavor. From the venue to the actors, their were a multitude of budget restrictions, as well as a need to earn revenue from their production. This particular aspect has not changed in recent years, there is still a lack of funds and a desire to profit from ones work. When THEATREclub spoke to the class they also touched upon their financial struggles and expectations. For example, their theatre company functions so well because they essentially have members that are able to perform multiple tasks, which limits the amount of money needed to hire outside sources. They write their own material, perform it themselves, as well as advertise and market it. When they were awarded a grant that was suppose to be utilized to fund a single production, they devised a budget that covered the cost three instead.

            The conclusion that I've come to about theatre is its hard. Really hard. The amount of time and effort it takes to create something of worth, that is laced with value and meaning, as well as engages the audience takes time, dedication, and talent. In the course of this class this has become more and more evident, and because of this I have newfound respect for theatre as a whole. 

Our class after their final monologue showing with special guests Luther Hanson, 

Bern Deegan, and Charlotte seeing us act for the first time! 

Studying Irish Theatre Like No One's Business: A Multitude of Talkbacks, Interviews, and Workshops

What follows are Ani Nina Oganyan's reflections on and pictures of some of the various artist workshops and talkbacks that we had throughout the course of the program.  

A reading of Mark O’Rowe, Howie and the Rookie with Bern Deegan (below, pictured).

I found this to be one of the more challenging plays to read. However, Deegan’s reading of specific scenes helped to understand the tone and dialect of the characters. At the end of our program I learned Deegan is not only an actor, but well involved in all facets of the theatre as we attended Dubliner’s Dilemma, a one man show he produced.

Our first weekend in Ireland we traveled to the city of Cork for its Midsummer Festival. Dargent was the designer for one of the performances we attended; Michael Keegan-Dolan’s Rian, with music by Liam O Maonlai. Dargent presented photos of the set that we would be seeing. The stage floor was painted green, and the cytoplasm was rounded and reflected an array of green. The reason for the rounded cytoplasm was for the audience to feel included and welcome. Simple, yet beautiful.

Myself, Professor Charlotte McIvor, and Diana Vergara with Sabine Dargent, Scenic and Lighting Designer 

In this photo, the girls are having great craic collecting interviews. We found out that the man Avry Schellenbach was interviewing was the owner of Sheila's hostel where we were staying . He and his lads gather at the Shelbourne, which he also owned, every Fridays for a game of cards. The interviews collected were for our acting class with Professor Christine Nicholson. 

At Focus Theatre after seeing Griswold, we participated in a talkback with actors Shane Gately (Taidhg) and Thomas Farrell (Hed) and the playwright Arnold Thomas Fanning. In this photo Diana Vergara continues to interview Farrell, as we rush to the DART. 

Donal O’Kelly (playwright and actor) and Sorcha Fox (actor) brought The Cambria to us, in the Samual Beckett Dance Studio, where our acting class is held. Here, Charlotte leads us in a talkback. In this talkback we learned that the original production included more physical work. A while back due to hurting her foot, Fox was unable to perform. They began to rehears the show in different ways and found that seated facing the audience worked. It was magical to still experience so much physicality, even as the actors just sat throughout the duration of the performance.

THEATREclub’s Shane Byrne and Grace Dyas in a talkback about their work and creation processes.

Workshop on making work in the contemporary Irish Theatre with Brokentalkers, Feidlim Cannon and Gary Keenan.

This was a wonderful experience for many of us because our group has a wide variety of interest pertaining to theatre. Brokentalkers put acting aside and focused on involving everyone with the creation process. They even gave us an assignment, which was for everyone to bring in an item that was important to them and share it with the class. This was a nice icebreaker and wonderful way for us all to learn a bit more about one another. 

Our objects on display, and one of our group exercise performance showings. 

 “The Art of the Irish Clown” with Raymond Keane (Artistic Director, Barabbas)

Our workshop with Keane was incredible. He brought with him to the workshop four beautiful masks and we got to work with embodying several of the emotions that the masks represented. 

Revisiting "What the Folk!" by Kambrya Blake

Kambrya Blake, one of our students, experienced a serious personal loss immediately prior to departing for Ireland with our program.  She has generously offered this piece as a reflection on her own experience of the trip, her loss and one of the productions that we saw together.  First follows her personal reflection, then her earlier review of the performance.  

***

         It was the day before I was to depart for Ireland, and I was on top of the world. I was on a natural high of excitement, ready to set out on a great adventure. Then came the news that brought me crashing in on myself – my friend Mikey had died suddenly at the young age of twenty-two. How quickly my elation turned into sorrow, into an emotional storm that left me drained and feeling as though there was no way I could continue with the trip. I spent the entire day sobbing into my pillow, wishing that I had spent more time with him, taken a second out of my day to comment on his Facebook pictures – anything to let him know he was on my mind.  I knew that Mikey would want me to continue and have this experience regardless, but I couldn’t help the feelings of guilt that plagued me. Guilt that I was going to do something that Mikey would never have the opportunity to do himself,  that I would be out having the time of my life when I should be grieving his loss. I made a decision that night that I would tell as few people about his death as possible… I knew my grief would isolate me regardless, but the last thing I wanted was for people to feel the need to pity me.

This loss shaped my perspective on the trip, it wasn’t just a summer abroad for me. It was more than schoolwork and pub hopping; it was an exploration of mortality and what that meant to me. Every event took on a deeper meaning, which in turn took a great toll on my being. I felt perpetually exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I was constantly on the verge of tears.  I felt alone in my grief, six thousand miles from the people who gave a damn. But it a strange way, it was beautiful. I was forced to face my grief alone, to walk through a dark moment in my life and come out the other side.  But I did it. And little by little, I began to see small signs that I believe were his presence– a song that would play suddenly, the lyrics seemingly a response to my thoughts.  As the trip went on I began to open up to others about my loss, to share my pain in order to overcome it.  I was never able to feel completely healed, but I became strong enough to bear the sorrow. Ireland was a place of regeneration and personal introspection for me, a place where I found my strength, a place I will never forget –  and I know that Mikey was there with me for every moment of it.

***

When discussing the great theatrical works of Ireland, nearly all the pieces mentioned are ones in which the role of the audience is clearly defined – we are spectators, watching the world before us unfold; however, in What the Folk! the lines of audience and performer are blurred. The goal of this piece is not to create a spectacle, but rather to examine the deeper and more personal purpose of art. It explores the theme of folk and tradition in 21^st century, and what this means to our modern culture. Folk, as an expression of traditional culture, still resonates among the Irish population today – it is for the people and by the people. Folk is then, in essence, family. By incorporating the audience into the performance, the actors were successfully able to evoke the tightknit feeling of family and community in and among all involved.

The piece does not take place on a stage, nor even in a theater, but in a house located in a residential district of Cork. The audience members are invited into the home as if they were guests, and the group is limited to a small number of people; fifteen at most. The home is furnished to look like any other home would – inviting and warm, not a typical theatrical space. Thus this exemplifies the theme of folk being family by evoking a sense of community and closeness between the performers and the audience.  The performers are not playing formal characters, but rather themselves as characters – with their own personal attributes on display. They do not wear costumes that are apparent as such, but rather clothes that they might wear in an everyday setting. This in conjunction with the set creates the illusion that the conversations are organic and unscripted, allowing the performance to flow freely into the realm of reality.

 The plot centers on the theme of folk as an integral part of family and community, and seeks to explore how this works in a modern context. At the start of the performance, the actors pose the question directly: what is folk? Throughout the experience, the cast involve the audience in very performed (yet seemingly spontaneous) interactions, starting with serving tea in the dining room, having a bit of fun dancing in the living room, and even sharing intimate personal stories when the larger group broke off into smaller ones to explore different rooms in the house. These actions and deliberate choices lead the viewers to come to the conclusion that “folk” can be defined as closeness and family well before the performers overtly announce this perceived definition at the end.

The performers of the piece are members of the National Folk Theater of Ireland, being not only actors but dancers and singers. As representatives of Irish folk, they found it important for the audience to “be part of the conversation” (Cork Midsummer Festival Program).  They chose to focus on finding the culture of their nation, through art, by incorporating the audience into the personal details of their experience with folk dance and working with the National Folk Theater, stating that folk traditions are an important aspect of the nation’s history and should still be practiced and celebrated today. They discussed the difference between competitive and traditional Irish Dance, allowing the audience a glimpse at how the traditions are changing and becoming commodified.

On a personal level, I was greatly affected by their goal of demonstrating that folk is part of family, and that it is alive and thriving within the people of today. I was mesmerized by their ingenuity of staging the piece in a house. As a writer, the way the production was handled got me contemplating how I might utilize these methods in my own work – and to question whether this would be a successful piece in the states. The intimacy of the audience played a major role in creating the overall feel of What the Folk! and I wonder how the experience would be different with a different group of people. Perhaps then, folk is family – but what “family” means or how the themes affect people varies according to the individual.

At the time of the showing, I had recently lost a very good friend of mine in a sudden and painful way. When the performers began speaking of their deceased friend, it hit a nerve. I felt as though these people were grieving with me.  Cerebrally I knew that this was not the case; they were not grieving for my friend but for their own, yet through this experience we were connected in a universal emotion. I felt as though these people were stand-ins for the family that I was unable to grieve with, that they were now functioning as my family and that even though we did not know the other’s lost friend we were able to feel empathy and connect on a deep level. That is folk – folk is connecting with the community of people around you, with embracing the humanity and emotions of others and connecting in some way, be it simple or profound.

David Mamet’s "Glengarry Glen Ross": Dublin, Ireland and American Capitalism- Gate Theatre, July 10

           

Glengarry Glen Ross at the Gate 

         The Gate Theatre in Parnell Square is treasured as one of Dublin’s most prestigious performance venues and is credited with producing impressive national and international works. Their most recent feat was producing David Mamet’s Pulitzer Prize winning play Glengarry Glen Ross with a cast of mostly native Irish actors. Mamet’s play is famously American, and follows the multiple antagonistic stories of the agents of a less-than-honorable real estate firm through its maze of manipulative inner-workings. The crux of the play involves the firm being robbed of their listings, contract, and “leads”, which results in suspicions and accusations flying around, until finally the most-unsuspected character confesses. This is a fairly simple plotline, for the art of the piece lies in the acting: the literal acting by the performers, but also the acts of deception which are employed by Mamet’s riveting characters. However instinctually odd producing this play in Ireland may seem, this production and cast proved that a well-written piece is still relevant and valuable regardless of region or nation when executed with professionalism and vigor.

            The direction of this play was adequate in that it was consistent and unobtrusive, but more interesting to consider is why this particular play was produced at this exact time in Ireland, and what it means now. One would assume that creating the characterization of realistic and authentic American businessmen would require more work and study for the Irish actors; however, this may not be true considering the significant industrialism, capitalism, and American influence that is present even here in Dublin. Mamet’s piece heavily carries the theme of American capitalism. Quite simply, this play is about being the best and making the most money, even if that means stabbing one’s co-workers and friends in the back. This is especially clear with the cut-throat power-play between the characters of Roma, Moss, and Levene, all three  of whom employ base manipulation to gain control, and money. It is likely that this play’s success in the U.S. can be credited to its strong statement and critique of American capitalism. With that in mind, it’s interesting to consider how this meaning and message changes, or doesn’t, when this play is performed in Ireland in 2012. Ireland and more specifically Dublin, now with several years between it and the crash of “the Celtic tiger” in 2008, is found once again struggling in a recession. However, it still remains to be one of the most massively sought-after tourist destinations in the world. One could go even further to say that tourism is one of the only steady industries currently functioning in Ireland. Because of this, there is a significant number of American business chains who have brought their businesses to Ireland, specifically Dublin, such as Starbucks, McDonalds, and Burger King just to name a few. In the program for the show, the location is given as “An American city”. And while this is annoyingly unspecific at first glance, the value of not having named a specific city becomes clearer when this story is applied to Dublin, Ireland now. Even across the ocean and decades from its origin, the piece is still incredibility topical and poignant for it theme and critique of the American money machine and how it has sunk its roots around the world.

            The best performance of the night was hands down given by Mr. Owen Roe in his role of Shelly “The Machine” Levene. Mr. Roe took the audience on a tantalizing rollercoaster ride of manipulation, desperation, and deep human suffering. His expertise allowed him to craft just the right combination of action and emotion that let the audience sympathize with him one moment, and detest him the next. Also, considering his Irish roots, his American dialect was flawless. His speech flowed naturally in a standard mid-western dialect which was neither artificial nor distracting. The pacing, speed, and tenor of his dialogue were excellent, which is especially pertinent for this play. Mamet’s quick and witty text consists of many half-finished sentences and interruptions, and much aggressive banter, many times between three or more characters at once. And Mr. Roe successfully navigated this complex text with the dexterity of a master actor; he weaved his array of realistic exasperations and quick changes of tactics though the understatedly choppy and repetitive dialogue. To contrast the excellent performance of Mr. Roe, one can examine the part of John Williamson, which was played by the young Irish actor John Cronin. Mr. Cronin’s performance seemed to lack a certain sense of season when contrasted with his fellow cast members, which also ironically parallels the situation his character experiences in the play. Mr. Cronin played the young green office manager well only in that his own lack of experience also seemed inadequate when paired with the older acting talent in the production. His American dialect, which seemed to stem from some stereotypical northern east coast speech such as New York or Boston, seemed to even distract him from his own action and pursuit of intention at times, blurring the relevance of his dialogue and alienating the audience. His portrayal of John Williamson was rightfully cocky and obnoxious, but lacked the vulnerability to complete the other half of inferiority complex and would counter his bold behavior. In addition, it seemed he lacked some of the most basic technical acting skills such as genuine listening, which then informs how rehearsed a piece like this really is, when that fact should be the farthest thing from an audience member’s mind when trying to suspend disbelief.

            The technical aspects of the show were of good quality and highly consistent. The set was particularly impressive in that it did just what a set should do: it functioned safely and effectively for the actors without distracting or detracting from the performance. This production also used their curtains very effectively in the first act; between scenes, a single runner curtain would move across the stage in a fluid motion, and the actors from the previous scene would leave behind it while simultaneously the actors for the next scene would be set behind it. Artistically, the set was not an impressive spectacle, yet it consisted of so many significant small details that it clearly defined the world of the play. Both set locations seen in this play were not over- or understated, but functioned perfectly for the use of the action and actors. It was the careful detail such as the china tea cup and duct tape on the booth in the restaurant during the first half that made that location as real as can be. The same can be said for the detail work in the real estate office: from the dingy cement walls and the dirty, finger-printed glass door, to the dangling fly strip and the grimy air conditioning vent. These small details are an example of the careful thought that went into designing this set, and spoke volumes to the audience about the world these characters lived in.

            Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross remains to be an American classic, one that withstands time and interpretation, and location. It possesses an ability to be flexed and stretched to take on new meaning across the world while still remaining a topical and riveting piece of theatre. The Gate Theatre’s production presented new meaning for the piece by setting it in America, but also producing it in Ireland. This production still captured its unmistakably American theme, while also shining some new light on the great beast of American capitalism and its consequences around the globe. This was a dynamic and challenging production that proved its relevance once again.

~Moni Wright

The author doing a mask workshop with Barabbas's Raymond Keane