For class this week, I tried to research (tried being the keyword) previous productions of the two plays with which we will be working.
Here are the links to some relevant websites:
In the Heart of America
Production photos from Illinois Wesleyan University
Production photos from Macalester College
Interview with Naomi Wallace by InterAct Dramaturg Larry Loebell
The Trestle at Popelick Creek
Facebook Group for Kenyon College's production- has good photos
Facebook Event for IU Bloomington's production
More to follow since I have recently learned to spell- Pope Lick. It has a space.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Cornerstone, Community Based Theatre, Anna Deavere Smith and Naomi Wallace: Some Connections
As we move forward with the class and begin to practice applying some of the techniques we've been examining, I thought it would be good to draw some connections between the various threads about which we've been reading and talking. In an effort to be as transparent as possible about my goals as a teacher, I should say that my interest in including all of these various artists was that they have a particular interest in what some people call "engaged" artistic practices and scholarship. I am trying to find ways that these practices can be more actively included in the training of young actors, specifically, whose work is so important but is often dismissed and overlooked as a possible avenue for public intellectual engagement (in my opinion, the intellectual part of acting is often downplayed because we are so closely associated with our emotions and our bodies; but, as much recent research and scholarship shows, the mind is thoroughly embodied and emotional).
We began by making a transition from the discussion of solo performance to talking about community based theatre, and I brought up a quote by Ron Short, a member of Roadside Theatre who was cited in the chapter we read from the book Performing Communities. He points out that if you have historically been part of a group on the fringes of American society,
This made me realize how much of a gift it will be if people choose to share their stories with us, and how important it is for us to continue a dialogue with them as we progress. The work we are doing here is about conversation, ideally, rather than about control.
Continuing on that theme, we were really very fortunate to have a visit from Patty Payette, a former member of Cornerstone Theater Company who now works on our campus. We discussed the chapter in the same book on Cornerstone's work, and focused on the importance of mutual respect, and sharing our skills as theatre artists with the larger community in which we live. The chapter we read emphasized the importance of not entering into a project with the goal of changing a specific thing about someone or a community, and this brought up the risk of looking for a definite outcome or attempting to "help" in a sort of condescending, disengaged way. So we also talked about the importance of process and prioritizing what we can all learn from each other, as opposed to just paying attention to a final, marketable product. And as Ron Short pointed out, it is this kind of conversation that creates and builds our communities anew.
As tools for approaching this kind of work, we began to look at resources offered by different artists and writers whose work is based on the art of listening: the late, great Studs Terkel (may he rest in peace), whose website includes some very useful advice about conducting oral history interviews, the Storycorps project, whose book Listening is an Act of Love also offers excellent resources for conducting rich conversations, and Anna Deavere Smith, whose work of listening and embodiment takes careful research a step further by actually allowing actors to try on another person's identity.
One definition of community based art is that it is made "in, from, and for" specific communities, which lead to a long and ongoing discussion of how one defines community. I have read critiques of Deavere Smith's work, for example, that suggest it is not technically community based because it focuses a great deal on her own virtuosity as a performer. I, myself, believe that her work is exemplary because she is a highly skilled performer with enormous presence who actually makes an effort to open her power up and share it by beginning conversations about what American communities are or can be. But also, anyone who has tried to do the kind of work she does will probably find that it is a selfless process that requires an intense and respectful focus on the specific details of the lives of other people.
I also appreciate the focus Deavere Smith's work gives both to empathy and difference. In her introduction to Fires in the Mirror, she writes, "Character lives in the obvious gap between the real person and my attempt to seem like them. I try to close the gap between us, but I applaud the gap between us. I am willing to display my own unlikeness" (xxxvii-xxxviii). Training actors for professional careers is so frequently internally focused and intent on emphasizing an actor's ability to be "natural," and actors in mainstream theatre, television and film are so often limited to roles "like them" into which they can conveniently and believably be cast, the value of listening, observing and behaving differently doesn't get enough time or attention.
Finally, we begin work this week on the characters that form the basis of our research this semester, from the plays of Naomi Wallace. It seems to me that Wallace fits very well in the context of this other work, because as Brendan Pelsue points out in his portrait of her in the schedule for the upcoming Humana Festival of New American Plays at Actors Theatre of Louisville, "Wallace's work is grounded in the idea that human connection - emotional and sexual intimacy or the honest and empathically minded study of history - can transcend even the most desperate situations." Wallace herself, in an essay in the January 2008 issue of American Theatre magazine, writes that "we need more writers who envision theatre as a space for social and imaginative transformation" (100). I believe we also need more actors who do the same. She continues,
In order to reach for this kind of acting and performing, our class will spend the last half of the semester working on scenes and monologues from The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek and In the Heart of America. At the same time we will be building our characters from those plays through an attempt to "extend our sense of common ground," as the authors of Beginner's Guide to Community Based Arts phrase it. As we continue, I think it will be helpful to use the acronym "CRAFT" that is proposed by that book to assess how we are progressing on a number of fronts. The letters stand for "Contact," or establishing trust, mutual understanding and commitment; "Research," which involves listening, observing and learning; "Action," which refers to producing new works of art - in our case solo performances and scenes; "Feedback," which again means listening to and incorporating community suggestions, critiques, imagination and needs into our work; and "Teaching," which means doing what we can to make our own knowledge and skills available to other people, in the humble hope that our knowledge might in some way help them to build and enhance their own lives and communities.
Please, if you read this and would like to be a part of what we're doing or know someone who would, feel free to write.
We began by making a transition from the discussion of solo performance to talking about community based theatre, and I brought up a quote by Ron Short, a member of Roadside Theatre who was cited in the chapter we read from the book Performing Communities. He points out that if you have historically been part of a group on the fringes of American society,
...you don't have any of that political control, that economic control, even the control of your own image. Somebody else is controlling and telling you who you are. Then the only thing you have is your own story. That's about the only thing that you have. It comes down to how you use that in a public way. That's essential to me. Thater is the last public forum for common people. ... That process of dialog with the audience enters into the collective consciousness of that community and helps shape that community. As it uses the collective knowledge, it gets built together. (30)
This made me realize how much of a gift it will be if people choose to share their stories with us, and how important it is for us to continue a dialogue with them as we progress. The work we are doing here is about conversation, ideally, rather than about control.
Continuing on that theme, we were really very fortunate to have a visit from Patty Payette, a former member of Cornerstone Theater Company who now works on our campus. We discussed the chapter in the same book on Cornerstone's work, and focused on the importance of mutual respect, and sharing our skills as theatre artists with the larger community in which we live. The chapter we read emphasized the importance of not entering into a project with the goal of changing a specific thing about someone or a community, and this brought up the risk of looking for a definite outcome or attempting to "help" in a sort of condescending, disengaged way. So we also talked about the importance of process and prioritizing what we can all learn from each other, as opposed to just paying attention to a final, marketable product. And as Ron Short pointed out, it is this kind of conversation that creates and builds our communities anew.
As tools for approaching this kind of work, we began to look at resources offered by different artists and writers whose work is based on the art of listening: the late, great Studs Terkel (may he rest in peace), whose website includes some very useful advice about conducting oral history interviews, the Storycorps project, whose book Listening is an Act of Love also offers excellent resources for conducting rich conversations, and Anna Deavere Smith, whose work of listening and embodiment takes careful research a step further by actually allowing actors to try on another person's identity.
One definition of community based art is that it is made "in, from, and for" specific communities, which lead to a long and ongoing discussion of how one defines community. I have read critiques of Deavere Smith's work, for example, that suggest it is not technically community based because it focuses a great deal on her own virtuosity as a performer. I, myself, believe that her work is exemplary because she is a highly skilled performer with enormous presence who actually makes an effort to open her power up and share it by beginning conversations about what American communities are or can be. But also, anyone who has tried to do the kind of work she does will probably find that it is a selfless process that requires an intense and respectful focus on the specific details of the lives of other people.
I also appreciate the focus Deavere Smith's work gives both to empathy and difference. In her introduction to Fires in the Mirror, she writes, "Character lives in the obvious gap between the real person and my attempt to seem like them. I try to close the gap between us, but I applaud the gap between us. I am willing to display my own unlikeness" (xxxvii-xxxviii). Training actors for professional careers is so frequently internally focused and intent on emphasizing an actor's ability to be "natural," and actors in mainstream theatre, television and film are so often limited to roles "like them" into which they can conveniently and believably be cast, the value of listening, observing and behaving differently doesn't get enough time or attention.
Finally, we begin work this week on the characters that form the basis of our research this semester, from the plays of Naomi Wallace. It seems to me that Wallace fits very well in the context of this other work, because as Brendan Pelsue points out in his portrait of her in the schedule for the upcoming Humana Festival of New American Plays at Actors Theatre of Louisville, "Wallace's work is grounded in the idea that human connection - emotional and sexual intimacy or the honest and empathically minded study of history - can transcend even the most desperate situations." Wallace herself, in an essay in the January 2008 issue of American Theatre magazine, writes that "we need more writers who envision theatre as a space for social and imaginative transformation" (100). I believe we also need more actors who do the same. She continues,
I am not calling for a condescending theatre or a 'preach to the converted' theatre but a welcoming, vigorous, inquisitive and brutal theatre. If we encourage our students to dig, they will find the body, in all its intimacy and vulnerability, under the garbage of mainstream political rhetoric. (102)
In order to reach for this kind of acting and performing, our class will spend the last half of the semester working on scenes and monologues from The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek and In the Heart of America. At the same time we will be building our characters from those plays through an attempt to "extend our sense of common ground," as the authors of Beginner's Guide to Community Based Arts phrase it. As we continue, I think it will be helpful to use the acronym "CRAFT" that is proposed by that book to assess how we are progressing on a number of fronts. The letters stand for "Contact," or establishing trust, mutual understanding and commitment; "Research," which involves listening, observing and learning; "Action," which refers to producing new works of art - in our case solo performances and scenes; "Feedback," which again means listening to and incorporating community suggestions, critiques, imagination and needs into our work; and "Teaching," which means doing what we can to make our own knowledge and skills available to other people, in the humble hope that our knowledge might in some way help them to build and enhance their own lives and communities.
Please, if you read this and would like to be a part of what we're doing or know someone who would, feel free to write.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Feedback from Public Readings
I am finally getting around to writing here about our public readings of three plays by Naomi Wallace: Slaughter City, In the Heart of America and The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek. For each of three Saturday afternoons, we gathered in the Thrust Theatre as a class to read the plays aloud and discuss them. I explained in an earlier entry the idea behind these readings: to invite members of the community at large into the process of deciding which play would provide the basis for our semester's work. We've ended up choosing to focus on scenes from two of the plays: In the Heart of America and The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek.
Our early discussions were really excellent, I thought, even though we only had a handful of people not in the class ... all of whom were family members of ours! I think this kind of process is very slow to catch on, but I'm determined to convince people of its value. This occurred to me during President Obama's address the other evening, when he said something related to each and every person's point of view being valuable. I think this kind of engaged process makes so much sense in a political environment that is attempting to re-focus the country's priorities on ethics, responsibility and real participatory democracy. I think Naomi Wallace's plays call for the same kind of engagement.
That said, I want to include some notes two of our community members sent to me (who happen to be my mother and my aunt.)
My Aunt Peggy was present at all three readings, and wrote to me that she was very impressed with the students and their insights about the plays. Here are the notes she sent regarding questions of what struck her in general, what she related to personally, and what issues the plays address that are relevant to the local community:
My Mom (Mary Ann) was present at the last two readings, and I'm paraphrasing her notes here:
In The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek, she noted the difficulties of people being out of work. She was also struck by the strength of the women in the play: she made a note about Pace being a particularly atypical and strong female character. And she related to Gin's comment about trains taking people away, but never bringing them back; it occurs to me that loss and grief of various kinds are major themes in this play, and the others as well.
She noted a number of lines that stood out in In the Heart of America. One expressed the idea that facts are there to be interpreted to the benefit of whoever cares to use them; she later mentioned that the issue this raised for her was the current Iraq war. Another line was "what's done is often done again and done again" - this play points out the similarities among wars in which the U.S. has engaged in the 20th and 21st Centuries. She also noted the poetic names for all the weaponry: that people never actually mention what these things do to human bodies.
In both plays, she noted that they address stereotypes of poor Kentuckians, and particularly people from Eastern Kentucky.
My mom didn't express a preference, but she had a lot more notes about In the Heart of America.
I was so thankful that my family was supportive of the work we're doing and wanted to attend, but am also thrilled that they engaged so closely with what they were hearing and were willing to offer some comments. Thanks also to Rocky's mom for her very insightful input. I hope they'll continue to discuss things with us as we move forward.
Just one thing I wanted to note: I directed a laboratory version of The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek six years ago. One line of Pace's really jumped out at me this time in a way that it didn't before. She says, "Dalton Chance, when we're grown up, I want to stand here with you and not be afraid. I want to know it will be okay. Tonight. Tomorrow. That when it's time to work, I'll have work. That when I'm tired, I can rest. Just those things. Shouldn't they belong to us?" I find each part of her simple desire so moving - the "here" that means having a place, the "with you" that means love and companionship, the lack of fear of persecution or loss, the need for satisfying work, and the need for rest - and it's so much what these plays are about to me: the need to recognize which people in our world lack those simple human needs, to examine how we might contribute to their inability to have them, and to do our best to transform inequity and injustice in our own lives and communities.
Our early discussions were really excellent, I thought, even though we only had a handful of people not in the class ... all of whom were family members of ours! I think this kind of process is very slow to catch on, but I'm determined to convince people of its value. This occurred to me during President Obama's address the other evening, when he said something related to each and every person's point of view being valuable. I think this kind of engaged process makes so much sense in a political environment that is attempting to re-focus the country's priorities on ethics, responsibility and real participatory democracy. I think Naomi Wallace's plays call for the same kind of engagement.
That said, I want to include some notes two of our community members sent to me (who happen to be my mother and my aunt.)
My Aunt Peggy was present at all three readings, and wrote to me that she was very impressed with the students and their insights about the plays. Here are the notes she sent regarding questions of what struck her in general, what she related to personally, and what issues the plays address that are relevant to the local community:
Slaughter City: The themes relating to the inability to find other jobs; equal pay for women; job discrimination resonated with me and with what I hear from some of the people I talk with who are struggling to make ends meet. There were some lines that hit on current themes: "What happened to this animal called hope." Of course, we have just completed a presidential election on that theme.
Trestle at Pope Lick Creek: I think this caught very well the current economic situation the country is in, in terms of closing of plants and job losses. I think it has appeal because the trestle at Pope Lick Creek is pretty well known in this community and has an aura of danger and risk about it. The risk taking of youth and the discovery of the opposite sex themes are ones lots of folk would relate to as well as parents who struggle through these years with their children. I had thought this would be my selection, until today.
In the Heart of America: I think this was a powerful play for our time. I was so impressed that some of your students thought so, too. Since the Vietnam war the pictures of war that come back to the American people through the news have been sanitized and the real horrors of war are not shown. This play brings them home. With the second Iraq war phasing down, the war in Afghanistan is being expanded, and so we do the same things and we do them again and again. The juxtapositioning of the description of the various weapons with the attempt to develop a relationship has meaning on several levels. One is that we can use weapons to focus our attention away from the individuals on whom these weapons are going to be used. Another strong theme is the need to be trained to be a soldier and to channel anger against the "other" regardless of whether the other is the source/cause of our anger or not.
If I had to pick one play, it would be "In the Heart of America." However, I think taking scenes from several of the plays, particularly if they relate to a similar theme could be very effective also. I look forward to seeing what the class decides to do.
My Mom (Mary Ann) was present at the last two readings, and I'm paraphrasing her notes here:
In The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek, she noted the difficulties of people being out of work. She was also struck by the strength of the women in the play: she made a note about Pace being a particularly atypical and strong female character. And she related to Gin's comment about trains taking people away, but never bringing them back; it occurs to me that loss and grief of various kinds are major themes in this play, and the others as well.
She noted a number of lines that stood out in In the Heart of America. One expressed the idea that facts are there to be interpreted to the benefit of whoever cares to use them; she later mentioned that the issue this raised for her was the current Iraq war. Another line was "what's done is often done again and done again" - this play points out the similarities among wars in which the U.S. has engaged in the 20th and 21st Centuries. She also noted the poetic names for all the weaponry: that people never actually mention what these things do to human bodies.
In both plays, she noted that they address stereotypes of poor Kentuckians, and particularly people from Eastern Kentucky.
My mom didn't express a preference, but she had a lot more notes about In the Heart of America.
I was so thankful that my family was supportive of the work we're doing and wanted to attend, but am also thrilled that they engaged so closely with what they were hearing and were willing to offer some comments. Thanks also to Rocky's mom for her very insightful input. I hope they'll continue to discuss things with us as we move forward.
Just one thing I wanted to note: I directed a laboratory version of The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek six years ago. One line of Pace's really jumped out at me this time in a way that it didn't before. She says, "Dalton Chance, when we're grown up, I want to stand here with you and not be afraid. I want to know it will be okay. Tonight. Tomorrow. That when it's time to work, I'll have work. That when I'm tired, I can rest. Just those things. Shouldn't they belong to us?" I find each part of her simple desire so moving - the "here" that means having a place, the "with you" that means love and companionship, the lack of fear of persecution or loss, the need for satisfying work, and the need for rest - and it's so much what these plays are about to me: the need to recognize which people in our world lack those simple human needs, to examine how we might contribute to their inability to have them, and to do our best to transform inequity and injustice in our own lives and communities.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Anna Deavere Smith on 60 Minutes
I have quite a few things to catch up on, here, but first I wanted to post this video for the students to watch before tomorrow's class. It's a segment about Anna Deavere Smith that was on 60 Minutes twelve or fifteen years ago. For those readers who might be interviewed for the class: this is how the students may perform your stories later in the semester.
(I apologize for the small size and poor quality. I copied this a long time ago from a video tape a professor of mine had recorded from the television. But I think it's clear enough for you to get the idea.)
(I apologize for the small size and poor quality. I copied this a long time ago from a video tape a professor of mine had recorded from the television. But I think it's clear enough for you to get the idea.)
Monday, February 16, 2009
Catching up on blogging with the return of internet... Some thoughts on Trestle at Pope Lick Creek
Some thoughts I jotted down after last Saturday’s reading of The Trestle at Pope Lick Creek:
I was very struck by the moment on p. 303-4 where Dalton and Pace are improvising their own adventure with the train, and Dalton says that he is killed by the train- “Of course there’s almost nothing left,” to which Pace replies “Yeah there was. There was a lot left.” And suddenly the moment isn’t about Pace and Dalton anymore, it’s about Pace and Brett. I also don’t think Pace loses her cool throughout the whole play. When she gets upset, she doesn’t raise her voice, that’s not her way.
I also wrote down the phrase “shadow play,” which really expresses itself in several ways. This play is in itself a shadow play, in that it addresses poverty and depression, issues that people like to keep sequestered to the “shadows,” not bring to the forefront as they are uncomfortable subjects. Most, if not all of the characters are in some way shadows of their former selves, and then there is of course the literal use of shadows made by hands in front of a candle.
Throughout the play there is also a connecting thread of needing someone else’s confirmation to affirm one’s own existence or identity. I see this manifested in Brett’s request for Pace to confirm that she saw Chas slap him, in Dray’s request for Dalton to touch him, and in Pace’s request to “watch me. Whatever you do. Take a good look. Make some notes. 'Cause one day I might come back here to find out who I was—and then you’re going to tell me.” (page 326) The role of touch in this play is very intricate. I think that in a staged production it would be especially apparent just how important and deliberate physical contact between two characters is- it is always specific and intentional. This relates to questions about having control over your body and what happens to it, whether that is going to work and having your hands turned blue by chemicals, or whether or not you get sliced in two by a train.
One thing I’d like to explore further are ideas about love and the expectations that accompany it in this play. Thoughts?
I was very struck by the moment on p. 303-4 where Dalton and Pace are improvising their own adventure with the train, and Dalton says that he is killed by the train- “Of course there’s almost nothing left,” to which Pace replies “Yeah there was. There was a lot left.” And suddenly the moment isn’t about Pace and Dalton anymore, it’s about Pace and Brett. I also don’t think Pace loses her cool throughout the whole play. When she gets upset, she doesn’t raise her voice, that’s not her way.
I also wrote down the phrase “shadow play,” which really expresses itself in several ways. This play is in itself a shadow play, in that it addresses poverty and depression, issues that people like to keep sequestered to the “shadows,” not bring to the forefront as they are uncomfortable subjects. Most, if not all of the characters are in some way shadows of their former selves, and then there is of course the literal use of shadows made by hands in front of a candle.
Throughout the play there is also a connecting thread of needing someone else’s confirmation to affirm one’s own existence or identity. I see this manifested in Brett’s request for Pace to confirm that she saw Chas slap him, in Dray’s request for Dalton to touch him, and in Pace’s request to “watch me. Whatever you do. Take a good look. Make some notes. 'Cause one day I might come back here to find out who I was—and then you’re going to tell me.” (page 326) The role of touch in this play is very intricate. I think that in a staged production it would be especially apparent just how important and deliberate physical contact between two characters is- it is always specific and intentional. This relates to questions about having control over your body and what happens to it, whether that is going to work and having your hands turned blue by chemicals, or whether or not you get sliced in two by a train.
One thing I’d like to explore further are ideas about love and the expectations that accompany it in this play. Thoughts?
today's class
After our meeting with a former Cornerstone member last week, I wasn’t so sure about how this all worked. I think because Cornerstone is such an extreme to what we had been talking about – I mean, they literally drove in their cars and landed upon whoever would take them in. Now, don’t get me wrong, this sounds incredible, but I was not quite sure how the appeal compared to the success of the communities the company inhabited. After reading the book, however, I am starting to see what’s up. I’m not as much into the directions and all that, but I really enjoy the stories (plus those are the comic book parts!)
As humans, we are creatures of comparison. We usually learn more about something by comparing it to whatever prior knowledge we have of that subject. Today in class we were talking about theatre and how it has been a certain way, with specific conventions, for so long. The social order and view regarding theatre and drama have changed throughout history, but the basic implementation has always been, and is still there. Now we are being introduced to a completely different theatre process that can change perspectives for the audience and company, not just one or the other. Is this the new form of theatrical convention? And if it is, do we want that? So often, something is so great until it becomes the norm, and then we find (again as our comparative genes overpower our sensibility sometimes) that we are not as intrigued with this new form that has taken shift.
As humans, we are creatures of comparison. We usually learn more about something by comparing it to whatever prior knowledge we have of that subject. Today in class we were talking about theatre and how it has been a certain way, with specific conventions, for so long. The social order and view regarding theatre and drama have changed throughout history, but the basic implementation has always been, and is still there. Now we are being introduced to a completely different theatre process that can change perspectives for the audience and company, not just one or the other. Is this the new form of theatrical convention? And if it is, do we want that? So often, something is so great until it becomes the norm, and then we find (again as our comparative genes overpower our sensibility sometimes) that we are not as intrigued with this new form that has taken shift.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Craver
Craver is me. I am Craver. I really feel so connected to him and it hit me in such a strange way while reading the play. I know I talked to Cassie about this, but did anyone else feel they were about to come to tears while reading this play? It struck a nerve, and I thought that I was sold on Dalton, but playing opposite of Craver (who I instantly saw as myself from the beginning) as Fairouz made me fall in love with the character so deeply. I'm realizing that I am one of those people who wears emotions on their sleeves - but it's true, and now that I'm talking about it just makes me feel more connected to him, like a rush.
I'm from a part of town that is easily considered "white trash," and I've definitely grown up with that mentality and learning how to escape the dreaded garbage filled backyards. My own personal home was not as such and the environment I come from is very nurturing and beautiful, but all the houses around me were the same people, just not concerned with presentation. When I think about it, I think that it's a group of people who don't know the benefit of sight and therefore they cannot see themselves. (Which ties into Cornerstone actually - more on that in a minute). Craver was a beautiful lost piece of trash that was experiencing seeing himself for the first time (or at least it felt that way with the situation) although still very jaded and torn. His love for Remzi is so strange in the play that it is so TRUE, and his strange feelings for Fairouz stem from such an intriguing place (somewhere in the depths of guilt or pain of Remzi's death). I think that this role is a very eye-opening bit. His tragic lot in life is something that seems to shine very beautifully because he is the real American boy from a real American town who feels unwanted and ashamed and confused and mixed with a quiet sense of pride, the way I feel we all are. I think he is the model for everyone and whether or not his role leads in good example is irrelevant. Truth only leads to truth.
Back to Cornerstone. Reading about them and then having the discussion we had, made me just want to hop in a car and CONTROL what I was doing and control the role I was choosing to play by giving people a mirror to see themselves in. I think that people don't realize their potential to be anything any other human being can be until someone TELLS them (better yet, SHOWS them and WORKS with them) that they can DO these things. I feel so proactive about this class as it speaks to the inner activist.
I'm from a part of town that is easily considered "white trash," and I've definitely grown up with that mentality and learning how to escape the dreaded garbage filled backyards. My own personal home was not as such and the environment I come from is very nurturing and beautiful, but all the houses around me were the same people, just not concerned with presentation. When I think about it, I think that it's a group of people who don't know the benefit of sight and therefore they cannot see themselves. (Which ties into Cornerstone actually - more on that in a minute). Craver was a beautiful lost piece of trash that was experiencing seeing himself for the first time (or at least it felt that way with the situation) although still very jaded and torn. His love for Remzi is so strange in the play that it is so TRUE, and his strange feelings for Fairouz stem from such an intriguing place (somewhere in the depths of guilt or pain of Remzi's death). I think that this role is a very eye-opening bit. His tragic lot in life is something that seems to shine very beautifully because he is the real American boy from a real American town who feels unwanted and ashamed and confused and mixed with a quiet sense of pride, the way I feel we all are. I think he is the model for everyone and whether or not his role leads in good example is irrelevant. Truth only leads to truth.
Back to Cornerstone. Reading about them and then having the discussion we had, made me just want to hop in a car and CONTROL what I was doing and control the role I was choosing to play by giving people a mirror to see themselves in. I think that people don't realize their potential to be anything any other human being can be until someone TELLS them (better yet, SHOWS them and WORKS with them) that they can DO these things. I feel so proactive about this class as it speaks to the inner activist.
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