Thursday, November 26, 2015
Evocations of the Day (An Essayless Blog)
2015.11.26 Resisting Notes
2015.11.25 Minghella and Žižek (The Terrifying Miracle)
2015.11.25 An Object as Emotional Sketch (Ana's Skipping Rope)
2015.11.18 Silly Stories, and Impulse in the Voice (Oink Oink, I Almost Got Lost)
2015.11.19 CR, Karate, Tai Chi, and Stage Presence
Sunday, September 19, 2010
"Actresses as Working Women" by Tracy C. Davis
(Routledge, Oxon, 1991)
One of the great unknown nineteenth-century novels is a book called The Golovliov Family by Mikhail Saltykov-Schedrin. Among its many virtues is a sympathetic portrayal of the lives of two actresses: they are the twin grand-daughters of the absolutely despicable main character of the novel, Vladimir Mikhailovich Golovliov, and despite being shunned by the family for their profession and living in misery because of this, they wind up being the only ones capable of loving their grandfather after his life finally falls apart. (1) There are, in fact, many actresses in Russian literature and theatre – Arkadina being a latecomer in a long tradition – and in my opinion, they are among the most interesting characters in the Russian canon. Because most of these writers were dedicated realists, their take on the women was often, precisely, “actresses as working women”. (2) Alexander Ostrovsky, Russia’s greatest playwright, has at least four plays where actresses are the main characters, and which develop the impossible conflicts they are thrown into by a context that judges them harshly but relies on them emotionally: where they are vehicles for satirizing a world full of vices, with these actresses being, well, quite normal.
Tracy Davis’ book reminded me of Ostrovsky and Saltykov-Schedrin precisely because her meticulous description of a complex situation succeeds, without a word of admiration, to provoke admiration and compassion from the reader for these young women who, before a scarcity of options, choose the dangerous business of the theatre. Good historical writing is, in my opinion, like good play- or novel-writing: the reader should clearly see the complexity and even the inevitability of conflicts that at first glance seem bizarre, foreign and even maddeningly avoidable. Many of these situations would make wonderful settings for plays, because we would immediately connect to the actresses of the time, and retelling the stories might tell us much about how little has changed in our times. Her five key observations – the acting profession as an alternative to drudgery for poor women, female solidarity leading to social reforms to aid poor women and the poor in general (3), sexual harassment on the workplace masked by false philanthropy, the fetishization of the actress through staging that evoked common pornographic tropes, and the sexualization of actresses through a kind of geographical entrapment, still plague the theatre today. And situations like philanthropic blackmail or social hypocrisy are common scenarios in numerous other contexts. (4)
The story of the critic Clement Scott is a typical example of Davis’ keen analysis of the fundamental conflicts of the period. Here is an experienced professional who wants to protect young women from ruining their lives in the theatre by publicly telling the truth about what will probably happen to them, and who winds up vilified for his honesty and his sincere attempt to do a public good. There is nothing more dangerous for an embattled minority than to have its faults publicized, especially when these faults involve the debasement and violence conducted on an even smaller and more helpless minority. It is a fascinating conflict because those who protest the most loudly truly think that they are protecting the women whose good name they want to defend: one of those situations where it is hard to imagine what course of action could possibly be taken to break the endless cycle. Philanthropic attitudes, such as those expressed by the defenders of the actresses’ good name, believe in the system, and therefore perpetuate a system that is inherently prejudiced and violent. (5)
From a certain perspective, Davis’ treatment of the Clement Scott incident illustrates how she proceeds in this wonderful book, where each chapter criticizes, deconstructs, then builds upon the preceding ones. In order to understand the Scott scandal fully and see how impossibly difficult reform was in the theatre, it is necessary to have carefully studied the first two chapters of the book. We see, in chapter one, that some women choose the theatre as a viable option away from situations of indentured slavery, such as teaching or being a prostitute; and we know that from a certain point of view, women in the theatre are treated more democratically than in any other profession – Davis paints a traditional picture of the improving situation of the Victorian actress. But then in chapter two, she submits the statistics to a critical analysis, and shows that the situation was often so difficult for the actresses that some theatres had to organize welfare for them and their children, and this of course was done by the women themselves. Then in chapter three, Davis shows the constant sexual harassment the actresses must submit to in order to survive: it becomes clear that most of the young women who try to “escape” into the theatre wind up in a situation as miserable as the working-class life they wanted to avoid. So when she finally describes Scott’s well-meaning denunciation of the situation of women in the theatre, the vitriolic reaction of the theatre directors and managers (mostly male) is perfectly clear: speaking relatively, they have the moral high ground, because they know they do “more” for women than any other profession – but the reality is their treatment of their female colleagues is in some sense more terrible than in other professions. And there is nothing more ideological than violence disguised as generosity, especially when the surrounding violence is more openly aggressive.
(1) Saltykov-Schedrin, Mikhail. Gospodá Golovliovy. Khudozhestvennaya Literatura, Moskva, 1980.
(2) Chekhov is a curious exception to this rule.
(3) Ostrovsky was also famous for his reforms to the theatre, and for his attempts to professionalize acting companies and to secure decent salaries for their members. See V. Y. Lakshin, Alexander Nikolayevich Ostrovsky. Iskusstvo, Moscú, 1982.
(4) For a fascinating analysis of the humiliating philanthropy and social hypocrisy of the white elites to African American artists during the Harlem Renaissance, see Chapter 3 of Nathan Irvin Huggins’ book, Harlem Renaissance (Oxford University Press, New York, 1971).
(5) This collusive and violent “image-consciousness” is an important point of Huggins’ Harlem Renaissance, where the spokespeople for the image are community leaders trying to “live up to” white standards, even while the white community, as in Davis’ London, was looking for something else altogether in the Harlem arts scene.
One of the great unknown nineteenth-century novels is a book called The Golovliov Family by Mikhail Saltykov-Schedrin. Among its many virtues is a sympathetic portrayal of the lives of two actresses: they are the twin grand-daughters of the absolutely despicable main character of the novel, Vladimir Mikhailovich Golovliov, and despite being shunned by the family for their profession and living in misery because of this, they wind up being the only ones capable of loving their grandfather after his life finally falls apart. (1) There are, in fact, many actresses in Russian literature and theatre – Arkadina being a latecomer in a long tradition – and in my opinion, they are among the most interesting characters in the Russian canon. Because most of these writers were dedicated realists, their take on the women was often, precisely, “actresses as working women”. (2) Alexander Ostrovsky, Russia’s greatest playwright, has at least four plays where actresses are the main characters, and which develop the impossible conflicts they are thrown into by a context that judges them harshly but relies on them emotionally: where they are vehicles for satirizing a world full of vices, with these actresses being, well, quite normal.
Tracy Davis’ book reminded me of Ostrovsky and Saltykov-Schedrin precisely because her meticulous description of a complex situation succeeds, without a word of admiration, to provoke admiration and compassion from the reader for these young women who, before a scarcity of options, choose the dangerous business of the theatre. Good historical writing is, in my opinion, like good play- or novel-writing: the reader should clearly see the complexity and even the inevitability of conflicts that at first glance seem bizarre, foreign and even maddeningly avoidable. Many of these situations would make wonderful settings for plays, because we would immediately connect to the actresses of the time, and retelling the stories might tell us much about how little has changed in our times. Her five key observations – the acting profession as an alternative to drudgery for poor women, female solidarity leading to social reforms to aid poor women and the poor in general (3), sexual harassment on the workplace masked by false philanthropy, the fetishization of the actress through staging that evoked common pornographic tropes, and the sexualization of actresses through a kind of geographical entrapment, still plague the theatre today. And situations like philanthropic blackmail or social hypocrisy are common scenarios in numerous other contexts. (4)
The story of the critic Clement Scott is a typical example of Davis’ keen analysis of the fundamental conflicts of the period. Here is an experienced professional who wants to protect young women from ruining their lives in the theatre by publicly telling the truth about what will probably happen to them, and who winds up vilified for his honesty and his sincere attempt to do a public good. There is nothing more dangerous for an embattled minority than to have its faults publicized, especially when these faults involve the debasement and violence conducted on an even smaller and more helpless minority. It is a fascinating conflict because those who protest the most loudly truly think that they are protecting the women whose good name they want to defend: one of those situations where it is hard to imagine what course of action could possibly be taken to break the endless cycle. Philanthropic attitudes, such as those expressed by the defenders of the actresses’ good name, believe in the system, and therefore perpetuate a system that is inherently prejudiced and violent. (5)
From a certain perspective, Davis’ treatment of the Clement Scott incident illustrates how she proceeds in this wonderful book, where each chapter criticizes, deconstructs, then builds upon the preceding ones. In order to understand the Scott scandal fully and see how impossibly difficult reform was in the theatre, it is necessary to have carefully studied the first two chapters of the book. We see, in chapter one, that some women choose the theatre as a viable option away from situations of indentured slavery, such as teaching or being a prostitute; and we know that from a certain point of view, women in the theatre are treated more democratically than in any other profession – Davis paints a traditional picture of the improving situation of the Victorian actress. But then in chapter two, she submits the statistics to a critical analysis, and shows that the situation was often so difficult for the actresses that some theatres had to organize welfare for them and their children, and this of course was done by the women themselves. Then in chapter three, Davis shows the constant sexual harassment the actresses must submit to in order to survive: it becomes clear that most of the young women who try to “escape” into the theatre wind up in a situation as miserable as the working-class life they wanted to avoid. So when she finally describes Scott’s well-meaning denunciation of the situation of women in the theatre, the vitriolic reaction of the theatre directors and managers (mostly male) is perfectly clear: speaking relatively, they have the moral high ground, because they know they do “more” for women than any other profession – but the reality is their treatment of their female colleagues is in some sense more terrible than in other professions. And there is nothing more ideological than violence disguised as generosity, especially when the surrounding violence is more openly aggressive.
(1) Saltykov-Schedrin, Mikhail. Gospodá Golovliovy. Khudozhestvennaya Literatura, Moskva, 1980.
(2) Chekhov is a curious exception to this rule.
(3) Ostrovsky was also famous for his reforms to the theatre, and for his attempts to professionalize acting companies and to secure decent salaries for their members. See V. Y. Lakshin, Alexander Nikolayevich Ostrovsky. Iskusstvo, Moscú, 1982.
(4) For a fascinating analysis of the humiliating philanthropy and social hypocrisy of the white elites to African American artists during the Harlem Renaissance, see Chapter 3 of Nathan Irvin Huggins’ book, Harlem Renaissance (Oxford University Press, New York, 1971).
(5) This collusive and violent “image-consciousness” is an important point of Huggins’ Harlem Renaissance, where the spokespeople for the image are community leaders trying to “live up to” white standards, even while the white community, as in Davis’ London, was looking for something else altogether in the Harlem arts scene.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Amiri Baraka (Everett LeRoy Jones) and the Great Irish Writers
For years I have maintained that often, in the history of theatre and literature, the best and most representative writers of a country are often outsiders or minorities. Pushkin had African roots, Gogol and Bulgakov were Ukrainian, Pasternak was Litvak, etc.
This is one reason why it seems natural to me, though not always to others, my association of three lines of research, apparently distinct, but in fact with a great deal in common: Black American writers, post-colonial writers and Irish writers. What a surprise, then, to find my intuition confirmed by a radical Black-American communist and namesake (at least until he changed his name), Amiri Baraka. The article (from Home, a collection of essays published in the sixties), is called "Black Writing" and often refers to Joyce's The Dubliners. In the last paragraphs, Baraka writes:
"The vantage point is classically perfect - outside and inside - at the same time. Think of the great Irish writers - Wilde, Yeats, Shaw, Synge, Joyce, O'Casey and Beckett - and their clear and powerful understanding (social as well as aesthetic) of where they were and how best they could function inside and outside the imaginary English society, even going so far as teaching the mainstreamers their own language, and revitalizing in the doing." (p. 140)
Some commentators (Watts, 2001) say that Baraka's position oversimplifies the question, that there can be no comparison between a colonized people like Ireland, and an enslaved people who were forced to abandon all connection to their past. But this argument implies that culture is eminently geographical, and that the African cultural practices did not persist for centuries in the Americas; in Colombia and Cuba, however, Yoruba and Ibo are still spoken in some places, and if the search for a romantic Celtic past has driven the Irish writers, there is no question that a search for a romantic African past, for all its caleidoscopic enormity, has also driven Black American writers. What is also certain is that colonialism and the slave trade were of a piece, in terms of mentality, and that colonialism and post-colonialism are hardly limited to our era. I would like to ask Aesop, Greek poet and Roman slave, his opinion on this matter.
In any case, the point here isn't so much the formal social setting, as Baraka's comment on the "imaginary English society" - implying, if I understand him well, that the colonizing "cultures" are not cultures at all, but political clubs, or at the very least, cultures of power practices. Rome was one of the first trans-national organizations, and if Latin was later vitalized it was by indigenous cultural re-conquest. Baraka's whole point, as radical as it may seem to some, is that where there is a powerful institution, there can be no art - and that siding with the powers that be often is the fastest way to kill art. Baraka's argument, in fact, is more Hegelian than Marxist: it is the sublimation of the conflict between master and slave, where, as Hegel famously writes, the master suddenly becomes (shall we say culturally?) dependent on the slave, and the slave, master of his own work, art, and eventually, freedom.
This is one reason why it seems natural to me, though not always to others, my association of three lines of research, apparently distinct, but in fact with a great deal in common: Black American writers, post-colonial writers and Irish writers. What a surprise, then, to find my intuition confirmed by a radical Black-American communist and namesake (at least until he changed his name), Amiri Baraka. The article (from Home, a collection of essays published in the sixties), is called "Black Writing" and often refers to Joyce's The Dubliners. In the last paragraphs, Baraka writes:
"The vantage point is classically perfect - outside and inside - at the same time. Think of the great Irish writers - Wilde, Yeats, Shaw, Synge, Joyce, O'Casey and Beckett - and their clear and powerful understanding (social as well as aesthetic) of where they were and how best they could function inside and outside the imaginary English society, even going so far as teaching the mainstreamers their own language, and revitalizing in the doing." (p. 140)
Some commentators (Watts, 2001) say that Baraka's position oversimplifies the question, that there can be no comparison between a colonized people like Ireland, and an enslaved people who were forced to abandon all connection to their past. But this argument implies that culture is eminently geographical, and that the African cultural practices did not persist for centuries in the Americas; in Colombia and Cuba, however, Yoruba and Ibo are still spoken in some places, and if the search for a romantic Celtic past has driven the Irish writers, there is no question that a search for a romantic African past, for all its caleidoscopic enormity, has also driven Black American writers. What is also certain is that colonialism and the slave trade were of a piece, in terms of mentality, and that colonialism and post-colonialism are hardly limited to our era. I would like to ask Aesop, Greek poet and Roman slave, his opinion on this matter.
In any case, the point here isn't so much the formal social setting, as Baraka's comment on the "imaginary English society" - implying, if I understand him well, that the colonizing "cultures" are not cultures at all, but political clubs, or at the very least, cultures of power practices. Rome was one of the first trans-national organizations, and if Latin was later vitalized it was by indigenous cultural re-conquest. Baraka's whole point, as radical as it may seem to some, is that where there is a powerful institution, there can be no art - and that siding with the powers that be often is the fastest way to kill art. Baraka's argument, in fact, is more Hegelian than Marxist: it is the sublimation of the conflict between master and slave, where, as Hegel famously writes, the master suddenly becomes (shall we say culturally?) dependent on the slave, and the slave, master of his own work, art, and eventually, freedom.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Play and Action
A frustrating difficulty of certain talented actors is that they capture the play tactics of a scene quickly, and begin to play them. But they do it with such mastery - and so automatically - that they forget their stage partner. And since there is no action without a stage partner, the play tactics kill the action.
We have all witnessed it: we see a well-played performance, and we enjoy it very much at first, but bit by bit we begin to get bored. This is because the actors are playing, but they aren't pursuing a concrete action.
There is no doubt that doña Helia, in Today's a Holiday, wants to greet her cousin, wants to talk to him, to accompany him on this holiday, etc. All of that is great fun, and the scene is written that way: those are the play tactics of the character. But if the actress who performs doña Helia doesn't discover what the character wants, and doesn' try to pursue that action, then the play tactis will suddenly become false and the scene will stop working.
Helia wants to cheer Silverio up, wants to accompany him, for sure, but what she really wants id to find out what is going on between him and Pilar; she wants to find out what's gotten into Silverio. If she pursues this action actively, then the rest will suddenly, come alive, and will acquire a certain agreeable ambiguity, much more interesting for the audience. And this is impossible without connecting with the stage partner.
Play tactics aren't actions. Action gives life to play.
We have all witnessed it: we see a well-played performance, and we enjoy it very much at first, but bit by bit we begin to get bored. This is because the actors are playing, but they aren't pursuing a concrete action.
There is no doubt that doña Helia, in Today's a Holiday, wants to greet her cousin, wants to talk to him, to accompany him on this holiday, etc. All of that is great fun, and the scene is written that way: those are the play tactics of the character. But if the actress who performs doña Helia doesn't discover what the character wants, and doesn' try to pursue that action, then the play tactis will suddenly become false and the scene will stop working.
Helia wants to cheer Silverio up, wants to accompany him, for sure, but what she really wants id to find out what is going on between him and Pilar; she wants to find out what's gotten into Silverio. If she pursues this action actively, then the rest will suddenly, come alive, and will acquire a certain agreeable ambiguity, much more interesting for the audience. And this is impossible without connecting with the stage partner.
Play tactics aren't actions. Action gives life to play.
Monday, February 8, 2010
A Definition of Virtue
Here is a very moving excerpt from Phenomenology of Spirit by Hegel, and a sentiment which I share with regards to the difficulties involved in truly loving your enemy:
"Virtue is not merely like the combatant who, in the conflict, is only concerned with keeping his sword bright, but it has even started the fight in order to preserve the weapons. And not only can it not use its own weapons, it must also preserve intact those of the enemy and protect them against its own attack, for all are noble parts of the good, on behalf of which it went into battle." (Hegel, 232)
"Virtue is not merely like the combatant who, in the conflict, is only concerned with keeping his sword bright, but it has even started the fight in order to preserve the weapons. And not only can it not use its own weapons, it must also preserve intact those of the enemy and protect them against its own attack, for all are noble parts of the good, on behalf of which it went into battle." (Hegel, 232)
Friday, January 1, 2010
Career Highlights
The following are the more successful productions that Dixon has staged as a director in recent years.
The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier. Theatre dance production. Residency Prize, Ministry of Culture, 2008-09. Premiere: February 19, 2009
Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Anhelo del Salmon Theatre, Bogota. Premiere: August 19, 2008, Guarne, Antioquia.
Poverty is no Crime by Alexander Ostrovsky. Four Worlds Research Group, Theatre Department, Universidad del Valle. Premiere: Cali-Teatro, June 15, 2008. In conjunction with the Visual Arts and Music Departments.
Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel. Theatre Department, Universidad del Valle. Premiere: Teatro la Máscara, Cali, February 14, 2008
Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. Co-directed by Manuel Viveros. Theatre Department of the Universidad del Valle, Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists, Ministry of Culture, Buenaventura Branch of the Universidad del Valle. Premiere: Univalle Theatre Hall, Cali, February 26, 2006
As Artistic Director
The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. Research Group Teatro Cuatro Mundos/Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists. Premiere: Comfandi Theatre, Buenaventura, July 11, 2009.
The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier. Theatre dance production. Residency Prize, Ministry of Culture, 2008-09. Premiere: February 19, 2009
Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Anhelo del Salmon Theatre, Bogota. Premiere: August 19, 2008, Guarne, Antioquia.
Poverty is no Crime by Alexander Ostrovsky. Four Worlds Research Group, Theatre Department, Universidad del Valle. Premiere: Cali-Teatro, June 15, 2008. In conjunction with the Visual Arts and Music Departments.
Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel. Theatre Department, Universidad del Valle. Premiere: Teatro la Máscara, Cali, February 14, 2008
Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. Co-directed by Manuel Viveros. Theatre Department of the Universidad del Valle, Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists, Ministry of Culture, Buenaventura Branch of the Universidad del Valle. Premiere: Univalle Theatre Hall, Cali, February 26, 2006
As Artistic Director
The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. Research Group Teatro Cuatro Mundos/Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists. Premiere: Comfandi Theatre, Buenaventura, July 11, 2009.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Piano Lesson by August Wilson
The Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists
and the Four Worlds Theatre Research Group present:
THE PIANO LESSON
by August Wilson
Direction: Manuel Francisco Viveros
Adaptation: Everett Dixon, Manuel Viveros, Diego Burgos and the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists
La Lección de Piano (de la selva) in the XII Festival Iberoamericano de Teatro de Bogotá
Marling Rentería and Jhonny Castillo as Berenice and Limón (Photo by Everett Dixon)
Brief History of the Workshop
The Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists is the result of an initiative of the Theatre Arts Department of the Cauca Valley University in Cali and the Arts Section of the Ministry of Culture, with the support of the University’s Pacific Coast Branch in Buenaventura.
As written in the original document when it was first presented: “This project seeks to promote arts and theatre training initiatives at an informal level in parts of the country that have been neglected in terms of artistic formation.” Its basic objective was to compensate for the lack of theatre instruction in certain parts of the country, and to strengthen the cultural identity of the Pacific Coast.
The Young Artists bring us the African Colombian identity, sharing onstage their experiences and beliefs, creating new audiences capable of criticizing the personal and social relations around them.
This project has not only met its expectations, but with time it has turned into a source of creation, investigation and knowledge in the theatre arts for the Buenaventura community.
Persevering in this process is all the more important because this group of young artists is an example of how dedication, effort and discipline can bring real betterment to the difficult social and security conditions in Buenaventura, and maintaining this kind of alternative is an example of spirit and bravery for the whole country.
THE PIANO LESSON – A FAMILY CONFLICT
The play is the story of a dispute between a brother and a sister over an old relic of the family inheritance: a legacy which represents their ancestors and connects them to their roots. Boy Willie arrives at Doaker’s house with the desire to transform the family history, and to do so, he must confront his sister Bernice, who will refuse to let go of the past.
The play talks of the moral and spiritual values of the African American culture, not just of the northern continent, but of the southern continent as well. In this way we must face the problems of adapting to western life, and the search for an identity that belongs to this continent and not to the exploitation of vestiges of an uprooted African heritage.
The piano becomes a metaphor for a poignant heritage which motivates and troubles all of the members of the family. The old relic is the only story left to them, the materialization of a painful past which still weighs down on them, a past which they don’t know what to do with anymore.
This is an adaptation of the original play, and of course our piano has its own characteristics. In our version, we have only changed names and places, but the original text is maintained almost entirely.
As far as we can tell, this is the premiere of this play in the Spanish-speaking world.
The Author
August Wilson (1945-2005) Radical and provocative playwright, born in 1945 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, whose original name was Frederick August Kittel. His father was a German immigrant who worked as a baker and almost never appeared at home, which is why his African American mother, Daisy Wilson, divorced him. The playwright would later take on his mother’s name.
Awarded the Pulitzer Prize en 1987 and 1990 for his plays Fences and The Piano Lesson, Wilson dedicated himself to recovering the stories of rebellion, dignity and happiness of the black community in the United States during the XX century, in a collection of ten theatre plays, one for each decade, eight of which were premiered on Broadway. He told the story of the arrival of the African slaves to America, the experiences of the grandchildren and great grandchildren of those slaves, and the actual situation of the many middle-class families who would prefer to forget this painful past.
The Pulitzer prize-winning playwright Tony Kushner, author of Angels in America, considers Wilson to be a “giant of the American theatre”. Kushner states that in the tradition begun by Eugene O’Neill and Arthur Miller, “he wrote dramas of social commitment, straightforward and realistic, y re-conquered for the theatre a territory which was considered lost.” However, the playwright’s conviction of the importance of connecting cultural creation with the social reality of a country also gained him enemies. There were some who called him a “separatist” who wanted to turn art into politics.
The Director
Manuel Francisco Viveros. African Colombian artist, graduate of the Theatre Arts Department of the Cauca Valle University, participant in more than five international festivals, Viveros is one of the most highly recognized African American actors of Colombia. He was a member of the former Corporación Teatro del Valle, with which he performed in various productions of the classical repertory, such as Condenado por Desconfiado by Tirso de Molina, Othello by William Shakespeare, and Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov. In 2004, he was named coordinator for the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists, and has staged two productions, Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott (co-directed by Everett Dixon), and The Cretins by Roald Dahl. He is currently part of the directing team of the Fundación Teatro del Valle Independiente, of which he is also a founding member. In 2008, he premiered An Enemy of the People by Henirk Ibsen, which won a creation grant for the promotion of culture and tourism from the Cauca Valley Government in 2008. He also teaches theatre classes at the Pacific Coast Branch of Cauca Valley University.
CAST
Doaker Charles, retired, owner of the house - Ferley Salazar Balanta
Boy Willie, Doaker’s nephew - Luis Fernando Borja
Berniece, Boy Willie’s sister - Marling Rentería
Lymon, Boy Willie’s companion - Johnny Castillo
Marietta, Berniece’s daughter - Thalía Ivonne Meza
Harvey, preacher, suitor to Berniece - Oscar Javier Martínez
Wining Boy, Doaker’s brother - Juan Ricardo Buenaventura
Grace, an unknown woman - Jensy Renteria
Direction: Manuel Francisco Viveros
Production: Diego Fernando Burgos
Set Design: Angélica Lorena Hurtado
Costumes: Angélica Lorena Hurtado
Musical Arrangements: Mauricio Nieto Lugo
Project Director: Everett Dixon
CONTRIBUTORS: MINISTRY OF CULTURE/CAUCA VALLEY UNIVERSITY
Minister of Culture: Paula Marcela Moreno
President, Cauca Valley University: Iván Enrique Ramos
Vice-President, Research: Carolina Isaza de Lourido
Director, Four Words Theatre Research Group: Everett Dixon
Director, Cauca Valley University,Pacific Coast Branch: Jesús Glay Mejía
Theatre Arts Department Chairman: Gabriel Uribe
This is a co-production of the Four Worlds Research Group, funded by the Cauca Valley University Office for Investigation, and the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists, funded by the Pacific Coast Branch of Cauca Valley University.
Buenaventura, 2009.
and the Four Worlds Theatre Research Group present:
THE PIANO LESSON
by August Wilson
Direction: Manuel Francisco Viveros
Adaptation: Everett Dixon, Manuel Viveros, Diego Burgos and the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists
La Lección de Piano (de la selva) in the XII Festival Iberoamericano de Teatro de Bogotá
Marling Rentería and Jhonny Castillo as Berenice and Limón (Photo by Everett Dixon)
Brief History of the Workshop
The Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists is the result of an initiative of the Theatre Arts Department of the Cauca Valley University in Cali and the Arts Section of the Ministry of Culture, with the support of the University’s Pacific Coast Branch in Buenaventura.
As written in the original document when it was first presented: “This project seeks to promote arts and theatre training initiatives at an informal level in parts of the country that have been neglected in terms of artistic formation.” Its basic objective was to compensate for the lack of theatre instruction in certain parts of the country, and to strengthen the cultural identity of the Pacific Coast.
The Young Artists bring us the African Colombian identity, sharing onstage their experiences and beliefs, creating new audiences capable of criticizing the personal and social relations around them.
This project has not only met its expectations, but with time it has turned into a source of creation, investigation and knowledge in the theatre arts for the Buenaventura community.
Persevering in this process is all the more important because this group of young artists is an example of how dedication, effort and discipline can bring real betterment to the difficult social and security conditions in Buenaventura, and maintaining this kind of alternative is an example of spirit and bravery for the whole country.
THE PIANO LESSON – A FAMILY CONFLICT
The play is the story of a dispute between a brother and a sister over an old relic of the family inheritance: a legacy which represents their ancestors and connects them to their roots. Boy Willie arrives at Doaker’s house with the desire to transform the family history, and to do so, he must confront his sister Bernice, who will refuse to let go of the past.
The play talks of the moral and spiritual values of the African American culture, not just of the northern continent, but of the southern continent as well. In this way we must face the problems of adapting to western life, and the search for an identity that belongs to this continent and not to the exploitation of vestiges of an uprooted African heritage.
The piano becomes a metaphor for a poignant heritage which motivates and troubles all of the members of the family. The old relic is the only story left to them, the materialization of a painful past which still weighs down on them, a past which they don’t know what to do with anymore.
This is an adaptation of the original play, and of course our piano has its own characteristics. In our version, we have only changed names and places, but the original text is maintained almost entirely.
As far as we can tell, this is the premiere of this play in the Spanish-speaking world.
The Author
August Wilson (1945-2005) Radical and provocative playwright, born in 1945 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, whose original name was Frederick August Kittel. His father was a German immigrant who worked as a baker and almost never appeared at home, which is why his African American mother, Daisy Wilson, divorced him. The playwright would later take on his mother’s name.
Awarded the Pulitzer Prize en 1987 and 1990 for his plays Fences and The Piano Lesson, Wilson dedicated himself to recovering the stories of rebellion, dignity and happiness of the black community in the United States during the XX century, in a collection of ten theatre plays, one for each decade, eight of which were premiered on Broadway. He told the story of the arrival of the African slaves to America, the experiences of the grandchildren and great grandchildren of those slaves, and the actual situation of the many middle-class families who would prefer to forget this painful past.
The Pulitzer prize-winning playwright Tony Kushner, author of Angels in America, considers Wilson to be a “giant of the American theatre”. Kushner states that in the tradition begun by Eugene O’Neill and Arthur Miller, “he wrote dramas of social commitment, straightforward and realistic, y re-conquered for the theatre a territory which was considered lost.” However, the playwright’s conviction of the importance of connecting cultural creation with the social reality of a country also gained him enemies. There were some who called him a “separatist” who wanted to turn art into politics.
The Director
Manuel Francisco Viveros. African Colombian artist, graduate of the Theatre Arts Department of the Cauca Valle University, participant in more than five international festivals, Viveros is one of the most highly recognized African American actors of Colombia. He was a member of the former Corporación Teatro del Valle, with which he performed in various productions of the classical repertory, such as Condenado por Desconfiado by Tirso de Molina, Othello by William Shakespeare, and Uncle Vanya by Anton Chekhov. In 2004, he was named coordinator for the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists, and has staged two productions, Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott (co-directed by Everett Dixon), and The Cretins by Roald Dahl. He is currently part of the directing team of the Fundación Teatro del Valle Independiente, of which he is also a founding member. In 2008, he premiered An Enemy of the People by Henirk Ibsen, which won a creation grant for the promotion of culture and tourism from the Cauca Valley Government in 2008. He also teaches theatre classes at the Pacific Coast Branch of Cauca Valley University.
CAST
Doaker Charles, retired, owner of the house - Ferley Salazar Balanta
Boy Willie, Doaker’s nephew - Luis Fernando Borja
Berniece, Boy Willie’s sister - Marling Rentería
Lymon, Boy Willie’s companion - Johnny Castillo
Marietta, Berniece’s daughter - Thalía Ivonne Meza
Harvey, preacher, suitor to Berniece - Oscar Javier Martínez
Wining Boy, Doaker’s brother - Juan Ricardo Buenaventura
Grace, an unknown woman - Jensy Renteria
Direction: Manuel Francisco Viveros
Production: Diego Fernando Burgos
Set Design: Angélica Lorena Hurtado
Costumes: Angélica Lorena Hurtado
Musical Arrangements: Mauricio Nieto Lugo
Project Director: Everett Dixon
CONTRIBUTORS: MINISTRY OF CULTURE/CAUCA VALLEY UNIVERSITY
Minister of Culture: Paula Marcela Moreno
President, Cauca Valley University: Iván Enrique Ramos
Vice-President, Research: Carolina Isaza de Lourido
Director, Four Words Theatre Research Group: Everett Dixon
Director, Cauca Valley University,Pacific Coast Branch: Jesús Glay Mejía
Theatre Arts Department Chairman: Gabriel Uribe
This is a co-production of the Four Worlds Research Group, funded by the Cauca Valley University Office for Investigation, and the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists, funded by the Pacific Coast Branch of Cauca Valley University.
Buenaventura, 2009.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier
Residency Prize, Ministry of Culture, 2008-09
Direction: Everett Dixon
Choreography: Yovanny Martinez Riaño
Assistant Choreographers/Interpretors: Jairo Lastre/Julian Garces
Lighting Design: Robinson Achinte
Musical Direction: Claudia Velez
Jairo Lastre (Cimarron) and Julian Garces (Dog) in the premiere of The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier, February 19, 2009. University Hall, Javeriana University, Cali. (Photo: Claudia Vélez)
DANCE-THEATRE: PERFECTLY REDUNDANT
The essence of dance is movement. The essence of theatre is action.
True dance is not a question of perfection of form: the dancer's impulse is not just the serene internal movement of the martial arts master, but also the expression of an irrepressible human need - a shout made movement.
True theatre isn't just a question of form either: theatre action is a conflict manifest, an internal movement which expresses an irrepressible and tragic human need.
In this sense dance and theatre are the same art - both seek to express a conflict through concrete and directed movements - and there is something about the expression "dance-theatre" which is perfectly redundant.
However, there is no doubt that the traditions and conventions of these two sister arts are different, especially in its least successful incarnations. In dance, for example, when there is perfection of form, the interpretor can hide within, their spirit can go to sleep, and the audience, lulled by the beauty of movement, falls asleep in kind. Dance tends irresistibly to an empty "poetic" beauty, to elegant forms which don't really say anything.
The theatre, on the other hand, in its intent to express more "internal" conflicts, sometimes becomes very banal for its lack of expressive means, especially its physical expressivity.
This is why these two arts need each other constantly. Dancers teach actors to be physically present on stage, to express physically what their character wants, to attain a expressive conviction and forcefulness through physically dynamic actions. And actors teach dancers to be present in the "spirit", to participate spiritually in the actions they are carrying out, to react internally and to keep focussed on clear aims, to say something real, to want something real on stage, and to express this want in concrete but spiritual actions.
In a very specific sense, dance really reaches the audience when it has action and conflict - that is to say, when it has a theatrical essence. And theatre really reaches the audience when it has an urgency to its movements, when its has a dancistic essence. It's not a question of making away with the limits between the arts, but rather of recognizing that each art needs all of the others to get to its fullest expression.
This is what we have tried to achieve in this story about true freedom, this adaptation of the famous short story The Fugitives by Aleja Carpentier – five dancers, four actor, and a theatre director: to devise forms so theatrical and yet so anchored in movement that the audience ask at the exit: was it dance or was it theatre? We shall be happy if we have achieved it at least in some moments of the play.
Nattalia Izquierdo, Camilo Jaramillo and Lina Riascos as the Animal Chorus in The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier. Javeriana University, February 19, 2009. (Photo: Claudia Vélez)
CAST
Cimarrón - Jairo Lastre
Dog- Julián Garcés
Grey Dog - Marcela Vanegas
Peacock - Nattalia Izquierdo
English Dog - Lina Riascos
Chorus - Actors: Camilo Jaramillo, Juan Pablo Astudillo, Lina Riascos, Nattalia Izquierdo
Dancers: Marcela Vanegas, Jhair Cambindo, Andrés Cardenas
Alejo Carpentier
Cuban writer Alejo Carpentier is considered, beside Mexican Juan Rulfo and Argentinian Luis Borges, to be one of the greatest writers of Latin America. Though none of the three ever won the Nobel Prize, it is generally held that they had deserved it much more than their outstanding, but lesser, followers, such as Gabriel García Marquez and Miguel Angel Asturias. Carpentier, with his novel Kingdom of this World, is credited with having invented the style of magic realism, and his stories, like this one about an escaped slave (or Cimarron) who develops a friendship with an escaped slave-hunting dog, are unsentimental looks at how cruelty and violence are at the centre of our most fundamental need for freedom and happiness.
Direction: Everett Dixon
Choreography: Yovanny Martinez Riaño
Assistant Choreographers/Interpretors: Jairo Lastre/Julian Garces
Lighting Design: Robinson Achinte
Musical Direction: Claudia Velez
Jairo Lastre (Cimarron) and Julian Garces (Dog) in the premiere of The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier, February 19, 2009. University Hall, Javeriana University, Cali. (Photo: Claudia Vélez)
DANCE-THEATRE: PERFECTLY REDUNDANT
The essence of dance is movement. The essence of theatre is action.
True dance is not a question of perfection of form: the dancer's impulse is not just the serene internal movement of the martial arts master, but also the expression of an irrepressible human need - a shout made movement.
True theatre isn't just a question of form either: theatre action is a conflict manifest, an internal movement which expresses an irrepressible and tragic human need.
In this sense dance and theatre are the same art - both seek to express a conflict through concrete and directed movements - and there is something about the expression "dance-theatre" which is perfectly redundant.
However, there is no doubt that the traditions and conventions of these two sister arts are different, especially in its least successful incarnations. In dance, for example, when there is perfection of form, the interpretor can hide within, their spirit can go to sleep, and the audience, lulled by the beauty of movement, falls asleep in kind. Dance tends irresistibly to an empty "poetic" beauty, to elegant forms which don't really say anything.
The theatre, on the other hand, in its intent to express more "internal" conflicts, sometimes becomes very banal for its lack of expressive means, especially its physical expressivity.
This is why these two arts need each other constantly. Dancers teach actors to be physically present on stage, to express physically what their character wants, to attain a expressive conviction and forcefulness through physically dynamic actions. And actors teach dancers to be present in the "spirit", to participate spiritually in the actions they are carrying out, to react internally and to keep focussed on clear aims, to say something real, to want something real on stage, and to express this want in concrete but spiritual actions.
In a very specific sense, dance really reaches the audience when it has action and conflict - that is to say, when it has a theatrical essence. And theatre really reaches the audience when it has an urgency to its movements, when its has a dancistic essence. It's not a question of making away with the limits between the arts, but rather of recognizing that each art needs all of the others to get to its fullest expression.
This is what we have tried to achieve in this story about true freedom, this adaptation of the famous short story The Fugitives by Aleja Carpentier – five dancers, four actor, and a theatre director: to devise forms so theatrical and yet so anchored in movement that the audience ask at the exit: was it dance or was it theatre? We shall be happy if we have achieved it at least in some moments of the play.
Nattalia Izquierdo, Camilo Jaramillo and Lina Riascos as the Animal Chorus in The Fugitives by Alejo Carpentier. Javeriana University, February 19, 2009. (Photo: Claudia Vélez)
CAST
Cimarrón - Jairo Lastre
Dog- Julián Garcés
Grey Dog - Marcela Vanegas
Peacock - Nattalia Izquierdo
English Dog - Lina Riascos
Chorus - Actors: Camilo Jaramillo, Juan Pablo Astudillo, Lina Riascos, Nattalia Izquierdo
Dancers: Marcela Vanegas, Jhair Cambindo, Andrés Cardenas
Alejo Carpentier
Cuban writer Alejo Carpentier is considered, beside Mexican Juan Rulfo and Argentinian Luis Borges, to be one of the greatest writers of Latin America. Though none of the three ever won the Nobel Prize, it is generally held that they had deserved it much more than their outstanding, but lesser, followers, such as Gabriel García Marquez and Miguel Angel Asturias. Carpentier, with his novel Kingdom of this World, is credited with having invented the style of magic realism, and his stories, like this one about an escaped slave (or Cimarron) who develops a friendship with an escaped slave-hunting dog, are unsentimental looks at how cruelty and violence are at the centre of our most fundamental need for freedom and happiness.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Poverty is no Crime by Alexander Ostrovsky
Director: Everett Dixon
As with Chekhov, Ostrovsky is dismaying at first because his plays don't seem to have any conflict. It is difficult to understand them at first, because no one is who they seem - the characters are neither good nor bad, and they never finally reveal themselves. In this aspect, Ostrovsky is more authentic than Chekhov himself, whose almost seasick vision of people's banality lead him, out of extreme sensitivity, to make quite cruel moral judgments of them.
Ostrovsky is more generous than sensitive, and he always seems to be waiting himself to see who his characters really are. As the Ostrovsky scholar Lakshin writes: "The very hero throws the author off a little. [...] Perceptive as an artist, Ostrovsky analyses life and brings to light new types of characters, without out making definitive judgments on them." Ostrovsky suspends moral judgment, - in a way this is the essence of his style. You Never Can Tell (title of a play by George Bernard Shaw) could be the title of any of Ostrovsky's plays, and it would be well worth taking the time to compare these two prolific playwrights (Ostrovsky wrote 47 plays with 728 characters, Shaw wrote 57 plays with fewer characters, as Russian plays are always more crowded). The fact that Ostrovsky pegs popular sayings to his plays does not reflect the simplicity of his vision, but rather the complexity of popular wisdom, which is older than all of us, and also knows that things are never what they seem. 
Dramaturge: Irina Kóstina
Colombian adaptation: Students of the Performance Workshop II
Musical Direction: Claudia Vélez
With a special appearance by Libardo Carvajal
Production Design: Jorge Reyes
A production of the Universidad del Valle's Theatre Department and Four Worlds Theatre Research Group.
Premiere: September 2008
Doña Cecilia with two guests (Isabella Moloney with Oriana Gironza, Diana Tapasco) in Poverty is no Crime by Alexander Ostrovsky. (Photos: Juan Diego Muñoz, Jorge Suzarte)
Ostrovsky is the most important Russian playwright, and were it not for the fame of the Moscow Art Theatre, and the subsequent rise of Anton Chekhov, who knows if we would not rather be staging Ostrovsky in all the theatres of the world, and not Chekhov?
As with Chekhov, Ostrovsky is dismaying at first because his plays don't seem to have any conflict. It is difficult to understand them at first, because no one is who they seem - the characters are neither good nor bad, and they never finally reveal themselves. In this aspect, Ostrovsky is more authentic than Chekhov himself, whose almost seasick vision of people's banality lead him, out of extreme sensitivity, to make quite cruel moral judgments of them.
Ostrovsky is more generous than sensitive, and he always seems to be waiting himself to see who his characters really are. As the Ostrovsky scholar Lakshin writes: "The very hero throws the author off a little. [...] Perceptive as an artist, Ostrovsky analyses life and brings to light new types of characters, without out making definitive judgments on them." Ostrovsky suspends moral judgment, - in a way this is the essence of his style. You Never Can Tell (title of a play by George Bernard Shaw) could be the title of any of Ostrovsky's plays, and it would be well worth taking the time to compare these two prolific playwrights (Ostrovsky wrote 47 plays with 728 characters, Shaw wrote 57 plays with fewer characters, as Russian plays are always more crowded). The fact that Ostrovsky pegs popular sayings to his plays does not reflect the simplicity of his vision, but rather the complexity of popular wisdom, which is older than all of us, and also knows that things are never what they seem.
In contrast to his contemporaries, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky and Turgenev, Ostrovsky has a more modest background; he was born in Zamoskvarechie ("The Other Shore"), the huge merchant class neighbourhood on the south side of the Moscow River. His plays, like many from the sixties in the XIX century, mark a fascinating transition in theatre history: the plays are still within the great tradition of melodrama, and are full of brilliant effects, tableturnings, unexpected endings, etc., but at the same time the context is no longer the nobility but rather the aggressive world of the merchant class, depicted with great fidelity. The term realism was coined in Russia by the critic Dobroliubov, speaking of the new plays by Ostrovsky. There are few writers in the history of literature - except perhaps Ostrovsky's contemporary Anthony Trollope - who better describes corrupt lawyers, poet-merchants and scheming accountants, and yet Ostrovsky was also a poet, whose dreamlike parentheses in the action, incomprehensible for the more conventional realistic writer, gave his plays all of their vitality. (At the very climax of Wolves and Sheep, two characters in conflict suddenly begin to speak about tobacco.)
With the rise of neoliberalism all over the world, Ostrovsky's plays, at one time thought to be the parochial works of a provincial Russian writer, have experienced a re-evaluation in the world, and his themes are more pertinent than ever. Ostrovksy is also modern in his treament of women: the great majority of his plays, including the two mentioned, have as their principal character strong-minded and independent women.
His great masterpieces are The Forest (staged by Meyerhold, one of hos three or four most important productions, in 1923); Wolves and Sheep, one of the first important artistic successes of the Fomenko Theatre under the direction of Peter Fomenko and Ma Zheng Hong; and The Storm the most famous play by Ostrovsky outside of Russia. This production's director began his directing carreer with a production of Truth is Good , but Luck is Better in Ottawa in February 1996.
The Musicians (Lina María García, Estefanía Díaz, Cindy Muñoz and maestro Libardo Carvajal) in Povertu is no Crime by Alexander Ostrovsky. (Photos: Juan Diego Muñoz, Jorge Suzarte)
This play unites three types of characters: a group of young people who are just beginning to live, and want to live life to its fullest (Mitya, Liubov; characters who have lived too long and who want to recover a happiness that seems to be slipping from their fingers (Korshunov, Tortsov); and characters who are simply happy despite their condition (Pelageya, Liubim, Arina). As in another play which confronts the heady aspirations of youth with the nervous nostalgia of age, Romeo and Juliet, this play is about a group of people who are ever after a happiness that only falls into their lap, miraculously, at the end of the play. Shakespeare's play is a failed comedy; this play by Ostrovsky is a failed tragedy, and both playwrights mixed comedy and tragedy in unexpected ways in all of their plays.
As far as the action of the play is concerned, this play celebrates national prowess, and for this reason it would make no sense to preserve the original Russian songs and traditions, but instead it is better to look for their equivalents here in Colombia. Our version is full of traditional colombian music, the "llanera" style which so much resembles, in atmosphere, content and complexity, Russian music, and the action of the play takes place in a different generation, the age of our grandparents, in the forties, when traditions still hadn't broken down before aggressive modernity.
In short, this play is a party that some of the characters want, and fail, to spoil. We are delighted to present this author unknown in the Spanish world, and we are proud to present this Latinamerican premiere of Poverty is no Crime.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett
Director: Everett Dixon
Acting Coach: Camilo Carvajal
Set and Costume Design: José Aristizábal
Página web del teatro Anhelo del Salmón
Programación de Esperando a Godot en el XII Festival Iberoamericano de Bogotá
Reseña de la obra en el blog del maestro Sandro Romero
Entrevista con Everett Dixon con Colombia.com
Leonardo Villa, Gadiel López and Edward Gómez as Lucky, Estragon and Pozzo in Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. (Photo: Carlos Mario Lema)
THE PARADOX OF SAMUEL BECKETT
Beckett dedicated his life to unmasking the emptiness behind language, and was implacable in his honesty at the manipulative senselessness of daily discourse. He put all of his linguistic virtuosity - as another brilliant writer, Vladimir Nabokov - into the game of taking language apart. But it is curious that an author who kept after emptiness so much should write plays so full of meaning beyond words. His plays, set on avoiding the traps of language in search of a terrifying honesty, surprise us with their light vitality, their childlike innocence, their readiness to play, and, significantly, their abundance of meaning. The best moments in Beckett, like Pozzo's description of the sunset, are suddenly, and shockingly, moving. Milton, in writing Paradise Lost, wanted to write a morality play, and wound up writing an inadvertent apology for the devil and original sin. In some ways, Beckett does the opposite: he wants to show that there is nothing beyond language but nothing and more nothing, and he winds up writing eloquent testimonies to ineffable fullness of life.
We come to the theatre, fifty four years later, we see the absurd antics of Estragon, Vladimir, Pozzo and Lucky, their awkward desires, their innocent attempts at meaning "in spite of everything," and we come out curiously revitalized. They have nowhere to go at the end of the day, the food is slight, but still, the road has its special luminescence, and where all else fails, the four are still able to tell a good joke. As Beckett says somewhere, there is nothing more comic than tragedy, but don't tell anyone.
CAST
Vladimir - Camilo Carvajal
Estragón - Gadiel López
Pozzo - Eduard Gómez
Lucky - Leonardo Villa
Boy - Alexander Herrera
Acting Coach: Camilo Carvajal
Set and Costume Design: José Aristizábal
Página web del teatro Anhelo del Salmón
Programación de Esperando a Godot en el XII Festival Iberoamericano de Bogotá
Reseña de la obra en el blog del maestro Sandro Romero
Entrevista con Everett Dixon con Colombia.com
Leonardo Villa, Gadiel López and Edward Gómez as Lucky, Estragon and Pozzo in Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. (Photo: Carlos Mario Lema)
THE PARADOX OF SAMUEL BECKETT
Beckett dedicated his life to unmasking the emptiness behind language, and was implacable in his honesty at the manipulative senselessness of daily discourse. He put all of his linguistic virtuosity - as another brilliant writer, Vladimir Nabokov - into the game of taking language apart. But it is curious that an author who kept after emptiness so much should write plays so full of meaning beyond words. His plays, set on avoiding the traps of language in search of a terrifying honesty, surprise us with their light vitality, their childlike innocence, their readiness to play, and, significantly, their abundance of meaning. The best moments in Beckett, like Pozzo's description of the sunset, are suddenly, and shockingly, moving. Milton, in writing Paradise Lost, wanted to write a morality play, and wound up writing an inadvertent apology for the devil and original sin. In some ways, Beckett does the opposite: he wants to show that there is nothing beyond language but nothing and more nothing, and he winds up writing eloquent testimonies to ineffable fullness of life.
We come to the theatre, fifty four years later, we see the absurd antics of Estragon, Vladimir, Pozzo and Lucky, their awkward desires, their innocent attempts at meaning "in spite of everything," and we come out curiously revitalized. They have nowhere to go at the end of the day, the food is slight, but still, the road has its special luminescence, and where all else fails, the four are still able to tell a good joke. As Beckett says somewhere, there is nothing more comic than tragedy, but don't tell anyone.
CAST
Vladimir - Camilo Carvajal
Estragón - Gadiel López
Pozzo - Eduard Gómez
Lucky - Leonardo Villa
Boy - Alexander Herrera
Leonardo Villa, Edward Gómez, Gadiel López and Camilo Carvajal as Lucky, Pozzo, Estragon and Vladimir in Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. (Photo: Carlos Mario Lema)
Friday, August 1, 2008
Research Group Teatro Cuatro Mundos, Theatre Department, Universidad del Valle, 2008-present
In 2008, Dixon founded the research group Teatro Cuatro Mundos, dedicated to the investigation of post-colonial playwrights, and canonical contemporary and classical playwrights unknown in the Spanish-speaking world. In both cases there is also an emphasis on playwrights for women. The first line of research is to develop the work at the Pacific Coast Workshop for Young Artists in Buenaventura (Colombia's New Orleans), an extended outreach program created by the Theatre Department of the Universidad del Valle in 2004, in conjunction with the Ministry of Culture and the Buenaventura Branch of Univalle. The TCM group has staged two successful productions under the direction of Manuel Viveros, Colombian adaptations of Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott, and The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. This last production has been invited to the XII Festival Iberoamericano de Teatro in Bogotá in 2010.
The second line of research is developed in the Professional Cycle of the Theatre Department, and began with a successful production of Alexander Ostrovsky's XIX century musical comedy, Poverty is no Crime.
Productions with the Young Artists' Workshop
The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. Directed by Manuel Viveros
Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. Directed by Manuel Viveros
The second line of research is developed in the Professional Cycle of the Theatre Department, and began with a successful production of Alexander Ostrovsky's XIX century musical comedy, Poverty is no Crime.
Productions with the Young Artists' Workshop
The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. Directed by Manuel Viveros
Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. Directed by Manuel Viveros
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel
Dirección: Everett Dixon
Michael and Chrissie (Cristian Vásquez and Francia Solano) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel, Padres e Hijos. (Fotos: Catherine Ávila)
Bailando en Lughnasa es una obra muy parecida a otra obra renombrada “chejoviana”, El Zoológico de Cristal de Tennessee Williams, pero se distingue de ésta (y de Chéjov) por su notable falta de crueldad. Sin sentimentalizar, esta obra logra dignificar a la gente sencilla por la poesía de su vida cotidiana. El proceder de Friel aquí es el del arzobispo-cronista Lombard en Haciendo Historia: ajusta la narrativa caótica de la vida de los personajes – del narrador Michael, de la tía Maggie, del padre Jack – a la propia visión idealista que tienen, luego se divierte tejiendo esta visiones contrastantes en una estructura de transiciones inesperadas. Por lo tanto, se arma un conflicto inhabitual en el teatro: el abismo que se abre entre nuestro vuelo imaginativo y la irrevocabilidad del pasaje del tiempo. Como su compatriota Shaw, toca una problemática moderna – en este caso la angustia existencial – y como Shaw da una solución de sentido común: hay que alegrarse. Comamos, bebamos, alegrémonos, que mañana moriremos. Esta obra tiene la alegría dolorosa de un alabao, herencia africana como las ceremonias que describe el padre Jack en el segundo acto, y la insistente presencia de la música en la obra no es una casualidad. Y visto que la obra habla del tiempo, pues, toma su tiempo, como las veladas nocturnas de nuestro propio festival pagano de otoño, la Noche de los Muertos.
REPARTO
Michael, joven, narrador - Johann Philipp MorenoKate, cuarenta, intitutriz - Ximena OrozcoMaggie, treintaiocho, ama de casa - Lauren CeballosAgnes, treintaicinco, tejedora - Satiana LondóñezRose, treintaidos, tejedora - Gianina AranaChris, veintiseis, madre de Michael - Francia SolanoGerry, treintitrés, padre de Michael - Cristian VázquezJack, cincuenta y tres, sacerdote misionero - Andrés Camilo López
Michael, quién narra la historia, también dice los textos del niño, es decir, Michael mismo cuando tenía siete años.Acto Primero: un día caliente de principios de agosto, 1936. Acto Segundo: tres semanas más tarde.La acción transcurre en el hogar de la familia de los Mundy, a cuatro kilómetros de la aldea de Ballybeg, en la condad de Donegal, Irlandia.
Arkady, Arisa Vlasyevna y Vassily Ivanich (Julián Caicedo, Sindy Ángel y Diego Robledo) en Padres e Hijos.
Visite la página web del montaje de la misma obraen el Teatro Estudio Fomenko, Moscú, Rusia.«Танцы на прaздник урожaя»
Para ver fotos de la obra, haga clic en la foto de la página web.
FICHA TÉCNICA
DirecciónProductora
Everett DixonSatiana Londóñez
Traducción del inglés por Everett Dixon, Claudia Vélez y el grupo de Montaje IV.
Michael and Chrissie (Cristian Vásquez and Francia Solano) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel, Padres e Hijos. (Fotos: Catherine Ávila)
Bailando en Lughnasa es una obra muy parecida a otra obra renombrada “chejoviana”, El Zoológico de Cristal de Tennessee Williams, pero se distingue de ésta (y de Chéjov) por su notable falta de crueldad. Sin sentimentalizar, esta obra logra dignificar a la gente sencilla por la poesía de su vida cotidiana. El proceder de Friel aquí es el del arzobispo-cronista Lombard en Haciendo Historia: ajusta la narrativa caótica de la vida de los personajes – del narrador Michael, de la tía Maggie, del padre Jack – a la propia visión idealista que tienen, luego se divierte tejiendo esta visiones contrastantes en una estructura de transiciones inesperadas. Por lo tanto, se arma un conflicto inhabitual en el teatro: el abismo que se abre entre nuestro vuelo imaginativo y la irrevocabilidad del pasaje del tiempo. Como su compatriota Shaw, toca una problemática moderna – en este caso la angustia existencial – y como Shaw da una solución de sentido común: hay que alegrarse. Comamos, bebamos, alegrémonos, que mañana moriremos. Esta obra tiene la alegría dolorosa de un alabao, herencia africana como las ceremonias que describe el padre Jack en el segundo acto, y la insistente presencia de la música en la obra no es una casualidad. Y visto que la obra habla del tiempo, pues, toma su tiempo, como las veladas nocturnas de nuestro propio festival pagano de otoño, la Noche de los Muertos.
REPARTO
Michael, joven, narrador - Johann Philipp MorenoKate, cuarenta, intitutriz - Ximena OrozcoMaggie, treintaiocho, ama de casa - Lauren CeballosAgnes, treintaicinco, tejedora - Satiana LondóñezRose, treintaidos, tejedora - Gianina AranaChris, veintiseis, madre de Michael - Francia SolanoGerry, treintitrés, padre de Michael - Cristian VázquezJack, cincuenta y tres, sacerdote misionero - Andrés Camilo López
Michael, quién narra la historia, también dice los textos del niño, es decir, Michael mismo cuando tenía siete años.Acto Primero: un día caliente de principios de agosto, 1936. Acto Segundo: tres semanas más tarde.La acción transcurre en el hogar de la familia de los Mundy, a cuatro kilómetros de la aldea de Ballybeg, en la condad de Donegal, Irlandia.
Arkady, Arisa Vlasyevna y Vassily Ivanich (Julián Caicedo, Sindy Ángel y Diego Robledo) en Padres e Hijos.
Visite la página web del montaje de la misma obraen el Teatro Estudio Fomenko, Moscú, Rusia.«Танцы на прaздник урожaя»
Para ver fotos de la obra, haga clic en la foto de la página web.
FICHA TÉCNICA
DirecciónProductora
Everett DixonSatiana Londóñez
Friday, December 21, 2007
Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel
Direction: Everett Dixon
Translation by Claudia Vélez, Everett Dixon, and the Performance Workshop group.
A production of the Theatre Department of the University del Valle in Cali, Colombia.
Cristian Vásquez and Francia Solano (Gerry, Chrissie) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel. (Photo: Catherine Ávila)
Dancing at Lughnasa is very similar to another famous “chekhovian” play, The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, but it parts with this play (and Chekhov) for its remarkable lack of cruelty. Without sentimentality, this play manages to dignify simple people through the poetry of their daily life. Friel’s strategy is the same as that used by his character Lombard, arch-bishop and chronicler from Making History: he adjusts the chaotic narrative of the life of his characters – of narrator Michael, Aunt Maggie, Father Jack – to the idealist vision they have of their own lives, then he plays at interweaving this vision with contrasting scenes from reality, making for a structure of constantly unexpected surprises. And the result is an unusual conflict in the theatre: the chasm which opens between our imaginative flights and the irrevocability of the passage of time. As does his compatriot, Bernard Shaw, Friel touches on a modern problem – existential anguish – and as Shaw he gives a common-sense solution: be happy. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. This play has the painful happiness of an Afrocolombian alabao, the celebratory songs to the dead that are sung in the Colombian Pacific – an African legacy like others described by Father Jack in the second act – and the insistent presence of music in the play is no coincidence. And since the play talks of time, it takes it time, and asks us to do the same, as in the same wakes where alabaos are sung.
Lauren Ceballos, Francia Solano, Satiana Ordóñez and Gianina Arana (Maggie, Chrissie, Aggie and Rose) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel. (Photo: Catherine Ávila)
Brian Friel (Omagh, 1929)
The most important contemporary Irish playwright, Friel has cultivated a deceptively simple dramatic structure: His plays, which deal with the passage of time and the fragmentary and idealistic mirages of memory, are testimonies of the failures of characters who nevertheless manage to tranform their reality through the poetization of their past. Friel is master at details that distract our attention, the pauses we make to contemplate a child's kite or smell the herbs in the garden, episodes and details that finally have more weight in the fortunes of these characters than their most painful misfortunes, Adapter of Ivan Turgenev, (Fathers and Sons, 1990), this Irish dramatist has an extraordinary affinity to the great notoriously warm-hearted Russian stylist. Other plays: Translations, 1986; Making History, 1989; Wonderful Tennesse, 1993.
Camilo López and Satiana Ordóñez (Father Jack and Aggie) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel (Photo: Catherine Ávila)
Characters
Michael, young man, narrator: Johann Philipp Moreno
Kate, forty, schoolteacher: Ximena Orozco
Maggie, thirty-eight, housekeeper: Lauren Emilia Ceballos
Agnes, thirty-five, knitter: Satiana Ordóñez
Rose, thirty-two, knitter: Gianina Arana
Chris, twenty-six, Michael's mother: Francia Elena Solano
Gerry, thirty-three, Michael's father: Cristian David Vázquez
Jack, fifty-two, missionary priest: Andrés Camilo López
Michael, who narrates the story, also speaks the lines of the boy, i. e. himself when he was seven. Act One: A warm day in early August 1936. Act Two: Three weeks later. The home of the Mundy family, two miles outside the village of Ballybeg, County Donegal, Ireland.
Crew
Direction: Everett Dixon
Traduction: Claudia Vélez
Production: Satiana Ordóñez, Gianina Arana
Musical Consultant: Ramiro Soto
Music: Catherine Ávila
Choreography: Satiana Ordóñez, Gianina Arana
Lighting: Cristian Vásquez, Edwin Ramos
Stage Technician: Sergio Cardona
Secretary, Theatre Department: Myriam Valencia
Chair, Theatre Department: Mauricio Doménici
Programa Director: Gabriel Uribe
Visit the website of the same play at the Fomenko Studio Theatre (Moscow): «Танцы на прaздник урожaя» To see photos of the performance, click on the website photo.
Translation by Claudia Vélez, Everett Dixon, and the Performance Workshop group.
A production of the Theatre Department of the University del Valle in Cali, Colombia.
Cristian Vásquez and Francia Solano (Gerry, Chrissie) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel. (Photo: Catherine Ávila)
Dancing at Lughnasa is very similar to another famous “chekhovian” play, The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, but it parts with this play (and Chekhov) for its remarkable lack of cruelty. Without sentimentality, this play manages to dignify simple people through the poetry of their daily life. Friel’s strategy is the same as that used by his character Lombard, arch-bishop and chronicler from Making History: he adjusts the chaotic narrative of the life of his characters – of narrator Michael, Aunt Maggie, Father Jack – to the idealist vision they have of their own lives, then he plays at interweaving this vision with contrasting scenes from reality, making for a structure of constantly unexpected surprises. And the result is an unusual conflict in the theatre: the chasm which opens between our imaginative flights and the irrevocability of the passage of time. As does his compatriot, Bernard Shaw, Friel touches on a modern problem – existential anguish – and as Shaw he gives a common-sense solution: be happy. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. This play has the painful happiness of an Afrocolombian alabao, the celebratory songs to the dead that are sung in the Colombian Pacific – an African legacy like others described by Father Jack in the second act – and the insistent presence of music in the play is no coincidence. And since the play talks of time, it takes it time, and asks us to do the same, as in the same wakes where alabaos are sung.
Lauren Ceballos, Francia Solano, Satiana Ordóñez and Gianina Arana (Maggie, Chrissie, Aggie and Rose) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel. (Photo: Catherine Ávila)
Brian Friel (Omagh, 1929)
The most important contemporary Irish playwright, Friel has cultivated a deceptively simple dramatic structure: His plays, which deal with the passage of time and the fragmentary and idealistic mirages of memory, are testimonies of the failures of characters who nevertheless manage to tranform their reality through the poetization of their past. Friel is master at details that distract our attention, the pauses we make to contemplate a child's kite or smell the herbs in the garden, episodes and details that finally have more weight in the fortunes of these characters than their most painful misfortunes, Adapter of Ivan Turgenev, (Fathers and Sons, 1990), this Irish dramatist has an extraordinary affinity to the great notoriously warm-hearted Russian stylist. Other plays: Translations, 1986; Making History, 1989; Wonderful Tennesse, 1993.
Camilo López and Satiana Ordóñez (Father Jack and Aggie) in Dancing at Lughnasa by Brian Friel (Photo: Catherine Ávila)
Characters
Michael, young man, narrator: Johann Philipp Moreno
Kate, forty, schoolteacher: Ximena Orozco
Maggie, thirty-eight, housekeeper: Lauren Emilia Ceballos
Agnes, thirty-five, knitter: Satiana Ordóñez
Rose, thirty-two, knitter: Gianina Arana
Chris, twenty-six, Michael's mother: Francia Elena Solano
Gerry, thirty-three, Michael's father: Cristian David Vázquez
Jack, fifty-two, missionary priest: Andrés Camilo López
Michael, who narrates the story, also speaks the lines of the boy, i. e. himself when he was seven. Act One: A warm day in early August 1936. Act Two: Three weeks later. The home of the Mundy family, two miles outside the village of Ballybeg, County Donegal, Ireland.
Crew
Direction: Everett Dixon
Traduction: Claudia Vélez
Production: Satiana Ordóñez, Gianina Arana
Musical Consultant: Ramiro Soto
Music: Catherine Ávila
Choreography: Satiana Ordóñez, Gianina Arana
Lighting: Cristian Vásquez, Edwin Ramos
Stage Technician: Sergio Cardona
Secretary, Theatre Department: Myriam Valencia
Chair, Theatre Department: Mauricio Doménici
Programa Director: Gabriel Uribe
Visit the website of the same play at the Fomenko Studio Theatre (Moscow): «Танцы на прaздник урожaя» To see photos of the performance, click on the website photo.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Anhelo del Salmón Theatre, Bogotá
In 2007, Dixon was chosen as Artistic Director of the Bogotá theatre Anhelo del Salmón, with where he staged Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. This production has had successful runs in Cali, Medellin and Bogotá, and has been invited to the XII Festival Iberoamericano de Teatro in Bogotá in 2010.
Productions
Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Premiere: Guarne, Antioquia, August 2008.
The Misanthrope by Moliere. Premiere: Casa del Teatro, Bogotá, May 2010
Workshops
Analysis of Five Canonical Plays, October 2009
Rhythm and the Theatre of the Absurd, July 2009
Workshops for the XII FITB, 2010
"Theatre Games Workshop", Theatre Training Workshops for Teenagers, in conjunction with the District Secretariat for Culture, Recreation and Sports, January to March 2010
"Theatre Games Workshop", Theatre Training Workshops for School Teachers, in conjunction with the Ministry of Education, March 2010
Productions
Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. Premiere: Guarne, Antioquia, August 2008.
The Misanthrope by Moliere. Premiere: Casa del Teatro, Bogotá, May 2010
Workshops
Analysis of Five Canonical Plays, October 2009
Rhythm and the Theatre of the Absurd, July 2009
Workshops for the XII FITB, 2010
"Theatre Games Workshop", Theatre Training Workshops for Teenagers, in conjunction with the District Secretariat for Culture, Recreation and Sports, January to March 2010
"Theatre Games Workshop", Theatre Training Workshops for School Teachers, in conjunction with the Ministry of Education, March 2010
Monday, February 27, 2006
Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott
The Pacific Workshop for Young Artists in Buenaventura
and Four Worlds Research Group presents:
CON CARNE, Y SIN PESCADO.
Colombian adaptation of the play by Derek Walcott.
(Santa Lucía, Caribbean. Nobel for Literature, 1994)
Oscar Javier Martínez and Luis Fernando Borja in Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. (Photo: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
Sponsored by:
Arts Direction, Ministry of Culture
University del Valle - Pacific Branch
Theatre Department, University del Valle
XIV Pacific Book Fair and University Week
Directed by: Manuel Viveros, Everett Dixon
Colombian Adaptation: Manuel Viveros, Everett Dixon and the Young Artists' Workshop
Assistant: Diego Burgos
Project Director, Four Worlds Research Group: Everett Dixon
Production Manager: Carol Maritza Hurtado
Marling Rentería, Jhon Erick Caicedo and Jency Rentería in Beef, no Chicken. (Photos: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
What is progress? For many people, progress is the materialization of their dreams, but few think in the consequences of progress. In these times of globalization, open markets, and free trade treaties, the aspiration to belong to the so-called first world can make us forget our priorities as human beings who belong to a community: to forget our principles and our respect for others. Palo Mojado, our Pacific Coast version of Walcott's Couva, is a metaphor for any place where the constant aspiration of the distant provinces to acquire a better life is confronted with the necessity to conserve the old traditions which the new life wants to destroy.
Oscar Javier Martínez, Luís Fernando Borja and Marling Rentería in Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. (Photo: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
Derek Walcott (Santa Lucía/Caribe, 1926)
Caribbean poet and playwright born on the little sovereign island of Santa Lucía (140.000 inhabitants), who works in the United States and Trinidad, Walcott is considered one of the greatest poets in English of the twentieth century. His works develop a remarkable dynamic between a highly refined traditional English and Caribbean patois, with its fusion of African, Asian and European elements. The conflict in his plays and poems often revolves around the necessity for progress but the urgency to preserve lost traditions, and has much in common with another great Trinidad writer, V. S. Naipaul. His masterpiece, Homeros, for which he won the Nobel prize in 1992 (twelve years before Naipaul), is a modern version of motifs from the Odyssey, where the Aegean is replaced by the Caribbean. In 1959, he founded the Trinidad Theatre Workshop, and with them wrote and premiered a series of excellent theatre plays which are still unknown in the English-speaking world.
Marling Rentería in Beef, no Chicken by Derel Walcott. (Photos: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
CAST
Faustina Silva, a woman from the Atlantic Coast: Jency Rentería
Otoniel Posso, restaurant and auto shop owner: Jhon Erick Caicedo
Epifania Posso, his sister: Marlin Rentería
Haragan (Radio), an idler: Luís Fernando Borja
His CD Player: Oscar Javier Martínez
Luís Pérez, schoolmaster: Ricardo Buenaventura
Carmenza Douglas, Otoniel's niece: Angie Yulieth Arroyo
Danilo Maldonado, a television newscaster: Oscar Javier Martínez
First Bandit: Ferley Salazar
Second Bandit: Yey Freddy González
The Mayor, also called Pablo Dos Santos: Edison Herrera
Lucy Balanta, widow: Angie Yulieth Arroyo
Don Toribio Viafara, member of the Municipal Council: Adolfo Hernández
Don Lai-Fuk: member of the Municipal Council:Ferley Salazar
Fernando Taylor, ex-merchant seaman: Oscar Javier Martínez
El Diácono, a vagabond preacher: Jhonny Castillo
Setting: Palo Mojado, a village in any part of Latin America, in the present.
and Four Worlds Research Group presents:
CON CARNE, Y SIN PESCADO.
Colombian adaptation of the play by Derek Walcott.
(Santa Lucía, Caribbean. Nobel for Literature, 1994)
Oscar Javier Martínez and Luis Fernando Borja in Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. (Photo: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
Sponsored by:
Arts Direction, Ministry of Culture
University del Valle - Pacific Branch
Theatre Department, University del Valle
XIV Pacific Book Fair and University Week
Directed by: Manuel Viveros, Everett Dixon
Colombian Adaptation: Manuel Viveros, Everett Dixon and the Young Artists' Workshop
Assistant: Diego Burgos
Project Director, Four Worlds Research Group: Everett Dixon
Production Manager: Carol Maritza Hurtado
Marling Rentería, Jhon Erick Caicedo and Jency Rentería in Beef, no Chicken. (Photos: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
What is progress? For many people, progress is the materialization of their dreams, but few think in the consequences of progress. In these times of globalization, open markets, and free trade treaties, the aspiration to belong to the so-called first world can make us forget our priorities as human beings who belong to a community: to forget our principles and our respect for others. Palo Mojado, our Pacific Coast version of Walcott's Couva, is a metaphor for any place where the constant aspiration of the distant provinces to acquire a better life is confronted with the necessity to conserve the old traditions which the new life wants to destroy.
Oscar Javier Martínez, Luís Fernando Borja and Marling Rentería in Beef, no Chicken by Derek Walcott. (Photo: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
Derek Walcott (Santa Lucía/Caribe, 1926)
Caribbean poet and playwright born on the little sovereign island of Santa Lucía (140.000 inhabitants), who works in the United States and Trinidad, Walcott is considered one of the greatest poets in English of the twentieth century. His works develop a remarkable dynamic between a highly refined traditional English and Caribbean patois, with its fusion of African, Asian and European elements. The conflict in his plays and poems often revolves around the necessity for progress but the urgency to preserve lost traditions, and has much in common with another great Trinidad writer, V. S. Naipaul. His masterpiece, Homeros, for which he won the Nobel prize in 1992 (twelve years before Naipaul), is a modern version of motifs from the Odyssey, where the Aegean is replaced by the Caribbean. In 1959, he founded the Trinidad Theatre Workshop, and with them wrote and premiered a series of excellent theatre plays which are still unknown in the English-speaking world.
Marling Rentería in Beef, no Chicken by Derel Walcott. (Photos: Carol Maritza Hurtado)
CAST
Faustina Silva, a woman from the Atlantic Coast: Jency Rentería
Otoniel Posso, restaurant and auto shop owner: Jhon Erick Caicedo
Epifania Posso, his sister: Marlin Rentería
Haragan (Radio), an idler: Luís Fernando Borja
His CD Player: Oscar Javier Martínez
Luís Pérez, schoolmaster: Ricardo Buenaventura
Carmenza Douglas, Otoniel's niece: Angie Yulieth Arroyo
Danilo Maldonado, a television newscaster: Oscar Javier Martínez
First Bandit: Ferley Salazar
Second Bandit: Yey Freddy González
The Mayor, also called Pablo Dos Santos: Edison Herrera
Lucy Balanta, widow: Angie Yulieth Arroyo
Don Toribio Viafara, member of the Municipal Council: Adolfo Hernández
Don Lai-Fuk: member of the Municipal Council:Ferley Salazar
Fernando Taylor, ex-merchant seaman: Oscar Javier Martínez
El Diácono, a vagabond preacher: Jhonny Castillo
Setting: Palo Mojado, a village in any part of Latin America, in the present.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Stage Direction: Everett Dixon
Production Design: Jorge Reyes
Choreography: Charles Vodoz
Theatre Department, Del Valle University, Cali, Colombia
Premiere: September 17, 2004
Helena, Hermia and Lisandro (Ana María Gómez, Elizabeth Patiño and Juan Cely) in Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare. (Fotos: Juan Carlos Cuadros)
Es bien conocido que William Shakespeare es el plagio más ilustre de la historia del teatro, y que el gran dramaturgo inglés la pasaba saqueando obras de otros autores. Hay una notable excepción a esta regla, sin embargo, y esta excepción se llama Sueño de una Noche de Verano. Fruto único de la imaginación de Shakespeare, también resulta, en términos técnicos, su obra más perfecta, y si borras todos los plagios del repertorio del maestro y te quedas sólo con esta obra única, Shakespeare no dejará de ser el más grande dramaturgo inglés. Concisa y veloz, compuesta en verso tan impecable como las obras neoclasicistas francesas, repleta de giros sorprendentes llenos de sentido metafórico, sin dejar (anticipando a Molière) de plantear situaciones cómicas primitivas, esta obra también encierra una filosofía humanista más amplia que cualquier adaptación escénica pudiera comunicar, especialmente en nuestra época sin convicciones. En efecto, son convicciones muy fuertes que impulsan a los personajes: añade al dicho inglés All's fair in love and war las palabras “and play”, y tendrás las apuestas de esta obra. Los personajes persiguen sus metas cueste lo que cueste, pero no terminan castigados como en Romeo y Julieta, sino Shakespeare, con una risa homérica, los asusta, los hechiza, los violenta de tal manera que se dan cuenta de su fragilidad como seres humanos... y los deja en libertad.
Production Design: Jorge Reyes
Choreography: Charles Vodoz
Theatre Department, Del Valle University, Cali, Colombia
Premiere: September 17, 2004
Helena, Hermia and Lisandro (Ana María Gómez, Elizabeth Patiño and Juan Cely) in Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare. (Fotos: Juan Carlos Cuadros)
Es bien conocido que William Shakespeare es el plagio más ilustre de la historia del teatro, y que el gran dramaturgo inglés la pasaba saqueando obras de otros autores. Hay una notable excepción a esta regla, sin embargo, y esta excepción se llama Sueño de una Noche de Verano. Fruto único de la imaginación de Shakespeare, también resulta, en términos técnicos, su obra más perfecta, y si borras todos los plagios del repertorio del maestro y te quedas sólo con esta obra única, Shakespeare no dejará de ser el más grande dramaturgo inglés. Concisa y veloz, compuesta en verso tan impecable como las obras neoclasicistas francesas, repleta de giros sorprendentes llenos de sentido metafórico, sin dejar (anticipando a Molière) de plantear situaciones cómicas primitivas, esta obra también encierra una filosofía humanista más amplia que cualquier adaptación escénica pudiera comunicar, especialmente en nuestra época sin convicciones. En efecto, son convicciones muy fuertes que impulsan a los personajes: añade al dicho inglés All's fair in love and war las palabras “and play”, y tendrás las apuestas de esta obra. Los personajes persiguen sus metas cueste lo que cueste, pero no terminan castigados como en Romeo y Julieta, sino Shakespeare, con una risa homérica, los asusta, los hechiza, los violenta de tal manera que se dan cuenta de su fragilidad como seres humanos... y los deja en libertad.
Friday, September 17, 2004
Mariinsky Theatre, Petersburg, 2004-2007
(The first opera was performed in Russian, and the second in Italian. The capital letters indicate the languages spoken in rehearsal, where I is Italian, R is Russian, E English and F is French.)
Directing Assistant and Interpretor for Alain Maratrat, actor of Peter Brook's Centre International des Recherches Théâtrales, and opera director. The conductor in both cases was Valery Gergiev.
Love for the Three Oranges. Opera by Sergei Prokofiev. (F-R) March 2007
Website at the Mariinsky Theatre
The Voyage to Rheims. Opera by Giacomo Rossini. (I-R-E-F) April 2005 (French premiere, Théâtre du Châtelet, Paris, December 2005)
Website at the Mariinsky Theatre
Larissa Yudina performs Folleville’s aria from Viaggio a Reims on Youtube
Gran Pezzo from Viaggio a Reims on Youtube
Directing Assistant and Interpretor for Alain Maratrat, actor of Peter Brook's Centre International des Recherches Théâtrales, and opera director. The conductor in both cases was Valery Gergiev.
Love for the Three Oranges. Opera by Sergei Prokofiev. (F-R) March 2007
Website at the Mariinsky Theatre
The Voyage to Rheims. Opera by Giacomo Rossini. (I-R-E-F) April 2005 (French premiere, Théâtre du Châtelet, Paris, December 2005)
Website at the Mariinsky Theatre
Larissa Yudina performs Folleville’s aria from Viaggio a Reims on Youtube
Gran Pezzo from Viaggio a Reims on Youtube
Tuesday, January 8, 2002
Theatre Department, Universidad del Valle, Cali, Colombia, 2002 - present
In 2002, he was granted tenure at the Universidad del Valle, in Cali, Colombia, where he has staged over twenty productions, many his own translations of classic and contemporary Irish, Russian and post-colonial playwrights who are unknown in Colombia, often with an emphasis on playwrights for women. He has also published several articles for the Faculty of Arts review, Entreartes, has contributed to the curricular development of the Department, has participated in several outreach programs for the Department in the Colombian southwest, and he created and maintained the Department’s website from 2002 to 2009.
(Donde hay dos mayúsculas, se trata de una adaptación de un idioma a otro, donde F es francés, R es ruso y E es español.)
Montajes como Director
La Pobreza no es Pecado de Alexander Ostrovsky. (R-E) Septiembre 2008
El Avaro de Molière. Septiembre 2007
Zoológico de Cristal de Tennessee Williams. Marzo 2007
Tranvía llamado deseo de Tennessee Williams. Marzo 2007
Las Falsas Confidencias de Marivaux. (F-E) Septiembre, 2006
La Importancia de Llamarse Ernesto de Oscar Wilde. Noviembre 2005
La Casa de los Corazones Rotos de George Bernard Shaw. Septiembre 2005
El Abanico de Lady Windermere de Oscar Wilde. Marzo 2005
Sueño de una Noche de Verano de William Shakespeare. Septiembre 2004
Las Fenicias de Eurípides. Septiembre 2003
La Tinaja de Luigi Pirandello. Diciembre 2002
Santa Juana de George Bernard Shaw. Junio 2002
Galería de Personajes. Creación Interactiva. Varias versiones 2002-presente
Artículos y Ponencias
"El Clown como herramienta fundamental en la formación del joven actor." Ponencia para el I Congreso de Estudios Teatrales, Universidad de Antioquia, Medellín. Noviembre 2009
"La Emoción y el Actor." Entreartes, No 8, Junio 2009
"La Evaluación Artística y la Paradoja del Actor." Entreartes, No 7, Junio 2008
"La Evaluación Artística: una Crítica Perpleja." Entreartes, No 6, Mayo 2007
"¿Quién Diablos es Piotr Fomenko?" Entreartes, No 5, Junio 2006
"Reflexiones sobre la Formación del Actor en el Departamento de Artes Escénicas de Univalle" Ponencia para el IV Encuentro Nacional de Escuelas Superiores de Teatro, Cali, 2003
(Donde hay dos mayúsculas, se trata de una adaptación de un idioma a otro, donde F es francés, R es ruso y E es español.)
Montajes como Director
La Pobreza no es Pecado de Alexander Ostrovsky. (R-E) Septiembre 2008
El Avaro de Molière. Septiembre 2007
Zoológico de Cristal de Tennessee Williams. Marzo 2007
Tranvía llamado deseo de Tennessee Williams. Marzo 2007
Las Falsas Confidencias de Marivaux. (F-E) Septiembre, 2006
La Importancia de Llamarse Ernesto de Oscar Wilde. Noviembre 2005
La Casa de los Corazones Rotos de George Bernard Shaw. Septiembre 2005
El Abanico de Lady Windermere de Oscar Wilde. Marzo 2005
Sueño de una Noche de Verano de William Shakespeare. Septiembre 2004
Las Fenicias de Eurípides. Septiembre 2003
La Tinaja de Luigi Pirandello. Diciembre 2002
Santa Juana de George Bernard Shaw. Junio 2002
Galería de Personajes. Creación Interactiva. Varias versiones 2002-presente
Artículos y Ponencias
"El Clown como herramienta fundamental en la formación del joven actor." Ponencia para el I Congreso de Estudios Teatrales, Universidad de Antioquia, Medellín. Noviembre 2009
"La Emoción y el Actor." Entreartes, No 8, Junio 2009
"La Evaluación Artística y la Paradoja del Actor." Entreartes, No 7, Junio 2008
"La Evaluación Artística: una Crítica Perpleja." Entreartes, No 6, Mayo 2007
"¿Quién Diablos es Piotr Fomenko?" Entreartes, No 5, Junio 2006
"Reflexiones sobre la Formación del Actor en el Departamento de Artes Escénicas de Univalle" Ponencia para el IV Encuentro Nacional de Escuelas Superiores de Teatro, Cali, 2003
Saturday, January 23, 1999
Bogota Arts Academy (ASAB), 1999-2001
In 1999, Dixon was granted an associate professorship at the Bogota Arts Academy. He gave acting, directing and theatre theory classes at all levels, and conducted outreach workshops; he also gave acting classes to the Dance Program, and participated in curricular development for both programs. Participated as acting coach for the Contemporary Dance Company Psoas.
(All of the plays were performed in Spanish, but English titles are given here.)
Productions as Director
The Misanthrope by Molière. ASAB, December 2001
The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. (Adaptation by Federico Rey) Awarded a grant by the District Institute for Culture and Tourism. Corporación Arte Escénico, July 2000
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. (My adaptation.) ASAB, May 2000
You Never Can Tell by George Bernard Shaw. ASAB/ Casa del Teatro, dic. 1999
Acting Coach, Psoas Dance Company
¿Cómo Vivir Así? Choreography by Charles Vodoz. April 2000.
Calle Real. Choreography by Charles Vodoz. Finalist the XIV International Choreography Competition in Hanover, Germany. April, 2000.
Acting Workshops, Casa del Teatro Nacional, Bogota
Workshop on the interactive theatre of Auguste Boal. October 1999
Workshop on Character Construction. In Evil Hour by Gabriel García Márquez. February to June 1999
(All of the plays were performed in Spanish, but English titles are given here.)
Productions as Director
The Misanthrope by Molière. ASAB, December 2001
The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. (Adaptation by Federico Rey) Awarded a grant by the District Institute for Culture and Tourism. Corporación Arte Escénico, July 2000
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. (My adaptation.) ASAB, May 2000
You Never Can Tell by George Bernard Shaw. ASAB/ Casa del Teatro, dic. 1999
Acting Coach, Psoas Dance Company
¿Cómo Vivir Así? Choreography by Charles Vodoz. April 2000.
Calle Real. Choreography by Charles Vodoz. Finalist the XIV International Choreography Competition in Hanover, Germany. April, 2000.
Acting Workshops, Casa del Teatro Nacional, Bogota
Workshop on the interactive theatre of Auguste Boal. October 1999
Workshop on Character Construction. In Evil Hour by Gabriel García Márquez. February to June 1999
Tuesday, April 16, 1996
Education
Master in Theatre Direction, Russian Academy of Theatre Arts (GITIS) — With Honours. (1996) (Teachers: P. N. Fomenko, E. B. Kamenkovich, S. V. Zhenovach)
B. A. in Dramatic Theatre and Movie Acting — With Honours. (1994)
Baccalauréat ès Arts, Spécialisation en Traduction, Concentration en Études Slaves, Université d'Ottawa (1989).
Diplôme d'études secondaires supérieures (Bilingüe, 1985)
B. A. in Dramatic Theatre and Movie Acting — With Honours. (1994)
Baccalauréat ès Arts, Spécialisation en Traduction, Concentration en Études Slaves, Université d'Ottawa (1989).
Diplôme d'études secondaires supérieures (Bilingüe, 1985)
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