if . . .

Heading into final week of rehearsal ... posting translation of program ... English Program The space is prepared with sound. A woman appears. This is the place where she died. Returning, can she escape death, even knowing it? But, as if by fate, she falls again. In this scene, the image of her mother, who survived Japanese colonialism flashes before her, and the breath of her ancestors overlaps. Will there be those who remember her death? If so, what meaning will it hold? The first step, where even breathing is difficult and with her broken wings she attempts to fly. To fly for those who cannot reach the sea. Collecting strength she stretches to open her wings releasing the words to fly again. Introduction: What Remains Unspoken – Raymon Montalbetti Hidden Echoes is a work built on a timeless muse and a prophetic breath yet to be unleashed. Rather than interpreting the text of “Dictée” linearly, we sought to embody the traces of a shattered soul through gesture, sound, music, and ...

                                                                                                              Director's Statement                                                          I could not direct. Could only listen.  Listening opens what the mind obscures: the tremor of a gesture, the weight of silence, the echo of sensation. Hidden Echoes does not tell a story. It discovers—the unknown within the body, the body as unknown. Rooted in Theresa Hak Kyung Cha’s Dictee , we honour her quest through presence. The performers carry no message; they are the mess...

Creating a  performance adaptation of  Dictee  by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha is a powerful challenge— Dictee  is nonlinear, fragmented, multilingual, and deeply rooted in themes of  voice, memory, exile, colonialism, and the female body as archive . A performance version should echo its form as much as its content: shifting, layered, unstable, ritualistic. Note:   … so was the challenge … began aug. 4 ..  

yes, winter has waned, but there has been no shortage of activity re: the Aurora Borealis lately - and this has me thinking about the time the US and Canadian militaries were shooting rockets into the Northern Lights just to see what would happen lol. This all went down in Churchill, Manitoba. For those keeping track, this is a fairly northern, somewhat remote community lol - a full 1000 km northeast of Winnipeg on the Hudson Bay. ... this IG  look here  post by the government of Canada, shared with me by my son, verified my toddler memories of being lifted up by my father and flicking a switch to fire a rocket into the Aurora Borealis ... there are pictures that look like the old wooden tower where i have memories of Dad bundling me up and atop the tower watched him take photos of the night sky ... he told me stories about the rocket info payloads landing sometimes as far south as the USA midwest ... the snow, polar bears & boulders of Hudson Bay shaped a dream-like cheri...

 Last night the kitchen breathed He stood there silver hair spilling light a beard of ash eyes mirrors turned inward burning through me. His mouth moved, words curling out like a snake, as if speaking to shadows, as if speaking to me. For a moment a flicker —  am I looking at myself?  — An echo from a future I can't hold. He reminded me of Stanislavski, how I remember his pictures, yet searching those images he was neither him nor me. He was something other, carved thinner older than time, newer than now. I wanted to stay or have him stay but was pulled away, unspooled from sleep. Still, if I hadn't woken, would he have ever been? Dreams need breaking to be remembered a word waiting on the tongue, a word held too long never finds its sound. ::Note:: ... taken from here 

...  retention of ceremony, language, teachings, and knowledge systems, that occurred before I was around ... face the really oppressive tactics to try to take those things away ... use strategies to protect those things, including hiding some of them, which is the most desperate things when you take things underground to say, we're just not going to let the sunlight see it because if we do, it might get taken away ...   ... regain knowledges ...restore knowledge systems ... restore understandings ... restore networks of relations  to re-foster all of the energy of our stories which didn't die ... tell the story  to counter the story that is being told ...  have the voice to speak ... actually, start positioning other ways of thinking and of being ... :: Note :: ... it is always time ... thanking Jesse Wente (on podcast  Commotion Boycotting American and the meaning of cultural...

Theatre ends where the question ends. Theatre dies where the experiment ends. It's not a song, but it's like a song (Singing-ness) It's not dancing, but it's like dancing (Dancing-ness) It's not a play, but it's like play (Playful-ness) That kind of theatre, Body, voice and imagination are one Movement, sound and play are one Training, experimentation and creation are integrated into one wholly theater; As an act of purifying the soul Focus on the inner voice inside (inwardness) Exteriorisation is defined as a process whereby an actor’s resources, from the most instinctual to the most conscious, are mobilised into the acting. Resolutely admit who you are On the outside, sensitive to the (zeitgeist) the spirit of the times A way to understand the multi-layered aspects of the world in a healthy way That kind of theatre, A reincarnated human Finally, we find ourselves as a whole beings. Whole theater.                         ...

 ... moved into a new place ...  ... first night there in a deep sleep was visited by a short middle aged man ... well dressed in a black suit ... seemed to be Korean but not sure ... although silent the figure's presence was so strong i was pulled out of dream to fully awake ... as I lay in bed the after image of him remained standing silently in the hallway just outside the open bedroom door ... he wasn't really looking at me but i felt he sensed i was now aware of his presence and didn't wish to startle me ... finally assured he was a dream figure i fell back to sleep ... only later to be visited again ...  this time not in dream but upon waking saw him standing fully in the doorway ...  a serious, calm face he looked directly into my eyes ...  ...  i knew he was an apparition  & examined his demeanour ... he was likewise examining me with a gentle questioning look ... oh a previous owner of the apartment i thought ... he didn't move or speak ju...

 Abandoned: a thousand tongues / A Requiem for the Dead ... extremely challenging to write this post ... process began with July workshops (12 three hour sessions) ... continued with August focused training (14 three hour sessions) ... shifted towards structured production in Sept. (7 three hour sessions) ... performances in mid-late October (9 ensemble sessions including two performances) ... some how ... a generously provided space from 9am - 1pm  ... ... two co-founders of the project, 36 workshop participants resulting in 10 actors to which 4 more theatre workers were added to the creative team ...  ... directors notes:   Welcome.   I should say at the outset we invite you to think of the action you are to witness as a Requiem - an act of remembrance. This years end of October hovers specifically over the torrent of tears from the trauma of Itaewon.  We have approached this trauma first and foremost from the perspective of students. Many have experien...