I did it. I planned it, booked it, paid for it, and made it all happen exactly how I wanted it to. I'm on the plane now thats going to take me home to the land, or the city rather (there's no land there at all) of noise and air pollution swarming with pretentious portenos. It was a lovely lazy weekend. I made lots of connections with friendly people I will probably, well certainly never see again. But we shared our travels and adventures and times of rest together passing through the world and each others' lives breifly... kinda like the Patagonian wind that carries itself from the salty Pacific high over the Andes depositing its moisture on frozen peaks in exchange the alpine chill that it in turn disburses over the grey expansive steppe of South America.
Give and take and move on.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
El Calafate: 3 de Octubre
Last night was great! I cooked myself a stirfry something just like I would back home and ate with the Australians, had an intense talk about rock climbing and chimi churri sauce with Pato the chef, and then shared some Piscola with Robert the German and this crazy Chileno. We went out to this teeny tiny little local bar with the guys who run our hostel and listened to a local reggae band, which was very fun. But I was very tired!
Today on the other hand was perfectly lovely. I strolled around the village a little, bought some post cards, and then walked over to the lake which is actually an ecology reserve for birds and sat and wrote them out. I was trying to relax and soak in the Patagonian sun the epic panoramic view of Lago Argentino and the Andes mountains but I was dying in the wind! It's harsh. The birds were amazing though. Flocks of wild pink flamingoes hanging out in the teal blue lagoon, flanked by yellow grass against a thin horizon of grey nothingness. It could almost be a mural with the back wall being the blue and white mountains and neon blue sky polka dotted with marshmallow clouds. And all the bird calls! Those trump piropos in the city anyday! So many different sounds and songs!
As I'm treading through the spongy wet marsh a pair of hawks swoops down in front of my face. They weren't afraid of me. They weren't afraid of anything. They live in a nature reserve in Patagonia. What threat could they possibly know out here? That's what stands out to me the most. There is a tangible calm and comfort in the nature, like this world truly is untouched and very well respected. My brochure said that all the plants and animals have different needs such as shelter and food, etc. and that's why there is so much biodiversity because they can all exist in the same habitat witout competing with each other for space and resources in order to survive. What a world they have?! If only in human society, our differences would ensure a peaceful existence rather than antagonize and destroy it.
I've been wondering what it would be like to have been born in El Calafate. How would you see the world as built by man, like a city such as Buenos Aires, if what you'd grown accustomed to and took for granted all your life were these grand scale natural wonders? The colors, the smells, the space, the sounds, all the elements that make you feel what you feel in a certain space and make you know it. Surely anywhere after this would be too busy and claustrophobic compared to here. And wasteful. And futile. Buildings and cars and clothes are so temporary. We, ourselves, are so temporary. These mountains and glaciers have been for a longer time than our transient minds can even grasp, nor are they moved at all by the mere misfortune that we don't grasp them. We don't matter to them, not the other way around. We are the ones that will pass away.
Today on the other hand was perfectly lovely. I strolled around the village a little, bought some post cards, and then walked over to the lake which is actually an ecology reserve for birds and sat and wrote them out. I was trying to relax and soak in the Patagonian sun the epic panoramic view of Lago Argentino and the Andes mountains but I was dying in the wind! It's harsh. The birds were amazing though. Flocks of wild pink flamingoes hanging out in the teal blue lagoon, flanked by yellow grass against a thin horizon of grey nothingness. It could almost be a mural with the back wall being the blue and white mountains and neon blue sky polka dotted with marshmallow clouds. And all the bird calls! Those trump piropos in the city anyday! So many different sounds and songs!
As I'm treading through the spongy wet marsh a pair of hawks swoops down in front of my face. They weren't afraid of me. They weren't afraid of anything. They live in a nature reserve in Patagonia. What threat could they possibly know out here? That's what stands out to me the most. There is a tangible calm and comfort in the nature, like this world truly is untouched and very well respected. My brochure said that all the plants and animals have different needs such as shelter and food, etc. and that's why there is so much biodiversity because they can all exist in the same habitat witout competing with each other for space and resources in order to survive. What a world they have?! If only in human society, our differences would ensure a peaceful existence rather than antagonize and destroy it.
I've been wondering what it would be like to have been born in El Calafate. How would you see the world as built by man, like a city such as Buenos Aires, if what you'd grown accustomed to and took for granted all your life were these grand scale natural wonders? The colors, the smells, the space, the sounds, all the elements that make you feel what you feel in a certain space and make you know it. Surely anywhere after this would be too busy and claustrophobic compared to here. And wasteful. And futile. Buildings and cars and clothes are so temporary. We, ourselves, are so temporary. These mountains and glaciers have been for a longer time than our transient minds can even grasp, nor are they moved at all by the mere misfortune that we don't grasp them. We don't matter to them, not the other way around. We are the ones that will pass away.
El Calafate: 2 de Octubre
Oh boy! How to describe this trip so far? AWESOME! Probably the most unique weekend I've yet to have in Argentina. I got in last night around 6pm and was chillin with the peeps in my hostel, sharing a beer with the German, chattin with the Irish, comparing scary movies with the Australian and vegetarian recipes with the Brit. I feel absolutely at home amongst all these foreigners in this barren cold land.
I booked the mini trek to Perito Moreno Glacier today. It rained but it was still spectacular. We got on the bus which took us 2 hours away to the Rico Brazo of Lago Argentino where we boarded a boat that took us across the water to the shore of the forest next to theis huge wall of ice. We hiked through the wet lush forest to the edge of what looked like a a monstrous white wave of snow frozen in mid lurch onto the rocks. The size of this thing is seriously inconceivable, yet there it is right in front of your eyes! We trekked across the beach and rocks to base camp where Diego our guide put on our crampons which reminded me of awkward metal bear traps on our feet. And then before you know it... I'M STANDING ON A GLACIER! Within 2 steps onto the ice I was satisfied. We could have turned around and gone home right then and there and it would have been worth it!
The mountains and peaks and valleys and crevices and holes that just defy wonder, pristine white, and sometimes a bright pure blue that I've only ever seen in gatorade flavors. (Aparently the blue parts are the older ice where it is most compacted, fun fact!) Trudging up and down to the sound of the crunch and slush of the giant ice cube under my metal claws accented by the tapping of the raindrops on the back of the awkward banana yellow rain coat, and asking for photos from the German girls while offering to take them for the sweet old Mexican couple who I always seemed to bump into right as they were having a romantic moment... such was the the trek! We reached our summit with an incredible panoramic of the glacier, the forest, the beach, and the lake where we came upon a set of tables nestled into the ice adorned with bottles of Scotch and alfajores for our adventurous pleasure! Coolest bar in the world....knee slapper!
After hiking back down and disembarking from our crampons we had some time to wander the forest and have lunch. I loved the solitue and the absolutely perfect beauty of the nature. I don't know how else to relate it, just breathing in freshness everywhere and treading on soft wet earth rich with red color, fallen trees black and soaked with rain, next to the crawling rock formations, grey shore, and the white-blue ice constantly cracking and churning in undetectable motion. I sat out on the rocks listening to the glacier for awhile. The 2 other Americans and the French boy joined me. As we were joking about how the whole front of Perito Moreno was going to fall down and kill us with a tidal wave, a huge chunk of the front wall broke off and went crashing into the lake in an enormous white splash! The sound of falling ice is so impressive. It's like thunder during a rainstorm except as if the clouds are made of stone smacking into each other. From the balconies we were able to see the glacier from a completely different perspective. Imagine an infinity of whiteness, like an ocean of ice that oozes out from the mountains. Absolutely spectacular. I'm so glad I had that experience because now I can describe to my grandchildren in vivid detail even the color and sound and smell of a glacier when they ask me what one was.
Now to recount some of the glacierology I learned today:
Glaciers dont have to be found in cold places or high elevations. The Patagonia ice field, roughly the size of the state of Israel and containing 300 glaciers, is in a low latitude and only 2,000 m above sea level. Patagonia glaciers are formed by the wind patterns that carry moisture from the Pacific Ocean up over the peaks of the Andes where they get cold and condense and form snow. The snow freezes in the upper part of the glacier, the ice factory they say, and eventually pushes down and out to the front with each season of new snows. Perito Moreno is only 450 years old and the 3rd largest in Argentina but its famous for its easy access and spectacular ice falls. It is also one of 2 stable non-receeding glaciers left in the world. All other glaciers are receeding and shrinking except for Perito Moreno and one more on the Chilean side. This is because its ice factory area is much much larger then its breking area so more ice is created than what breaks off in the spring each year. The other glaciers though are not so lucky. They've all been receeding since the ice age its true but the rate of breakage and melting has quadrupled in the past hundred years, much faster than its previous rate. This is a problem because Earth's glaciers regulate her atmospheric temperatures. It's like driving a car without any antifreeze or coolants basically. So yeah that's the tragic part. Listening to Marcelo our bus guide talk about it this morning made me want to cry! What more does our earth have to do to make us listen to it?
I guess the good news is that I finally found one place in Argentina where smoking is prohibed.
I booked the mini trek to Perito Moreno Glacier today. It rained but it was still spectacular. We got on the bus which took us 2 hours away to the Rico Brazo of Lago Argentino where we boarded a boat that took us across the water to the shore of the forest next to theis huge wall of ice. We hiked through the wet lush forest to the edge of what looked like a a monstrous white wave of snow frozen in mid lurch onto the rocks. The size of this thing is seriously inconceivable, yet there it is right in front of your eyes! We trekked across the beach and rocks to base camp where Diego our guide put on our crampons which reminded me of awkward metal bear traps on our feet. And then before you know it... I'M STANDING ON A GLACIER! Within 2 steps onto the ice I was satisfied. We could have turned around and gone home right then and there and it would have been worth it!
The mountains and peaks and valleys and crevices and holes that just defy wonder, pristine white, and sometimes a bright pure blue that I've only ever seen in gatorade flavors. (Aparently the blue parts are the older ice where it is most compacted, fun fact!) Trudging up and down to the sound of the crunch and slush of the giant ice cube under my metal claws accented by the tapping of the raindrops on the back of the awkward banana yellow rain coat, and asking for photos from the German girls while offering to take them for the sweet old Mexican couple who I always seemed to bump into right as they were having a romantic moment... such was the the trek! We reached our summit with an incredible panoramic of the glacier, the forest, the beach, and the lake where we came upon a set of tables nestled into the ice adorned with bottles of Scotch and alfajores for our adventurous pleasure! Coolest bar in the world....knee slapper!
After hiking back down and disembarking from our crampons we had some time to wander the forest and have lunch. I loved the solitue and the absolutely perfect beauty of the nature. I don't know how else to relate it, just breathing in freshness everywhere and treading on soft wet earth rich with red color, fallen trees black and soaked with rain, next to the crawling rock formations, grey shore, and the white-blue ice constantly cracking and churning in undetectable motion. I sat out on the rocks listening to the glacier for awhile. The 2 other Americans and the French boy joined me. As we were joking about how the whole front of Perito Moreno was going to fall down and kill us with a tidal wave, a huge chunk of the front wall broke off and went crashing into the lake in an enormous white splash! The sound of falling ice is so impressive. It's like thunder during a rainstorm except as if the clouds are made of stone smacking into each other. From the balconies we were able to see the glacier from a completely different perspective. Imagine an infinity of whiteness, like an ocean of ice that oozes out from the mountains. Absolutely spectacular. I'm so glad I had that experience because now I can describe to my grandchildren in vivid detail even the color and sound and smell of a glacier when they ask me what one was.
Now to recount some of the glacierology I learned today:
Glaciers dont have to be found in cold places or high elevations. The Patagonia ice field, roughly the size of the state of Israel and containing 300 glaciers, is in a low latitude and only 2,000 m above sea level. Patagonia glaciers are formed by the wind patterns that carry moisture from the Pacific Ocean up over the peaks of the Andes where they get cold and condense and form snow. The snow freezes in the upper part of the glacier, the ice factory they say, and eventually pushes down and out to the front with each season of new snows. Perito Moreno is only 450 years old and the 3rd largest in Argentina but its famous for its easy access and spectacular ice falls. It is also one of 2 stable non-receeding glaciers left in the world. All other glaciers are receeding and shrinking except for Perito Moreno and one more on the Chilean side. This is because its ice factory area is much much larger then its breking area so more ice is created than what breaks off in the spring each year. The other glaciers though are not so lucky. They've all been receeding since the ice age its true but the rate of breakage and melting has quadrupled in the past hundred years, much faster than its previous rate. This is a problem because Earth's glaciers regulate her atmospheric temperatures. It's like driving a car without any antifreeze or coolants basically. So yeah that's the tragic part. Listening to Marcelo our bus guide talk about it this morning made me want to cry! What more does our earth have to do to make us listen to it?
I guess the good news is that I finally found one place in Argentina where smoking is prohibed.
El Calafate: 1 de Octubre
This weekend I took off on a last minute trip down to the deep south of Argentina called Patagonia and had some incredible encounters with some of Earth's rarest and most precious natural wonders! Here's a little what I experienced...
1 de Octubre,2010
"Here I go. There's no turning back! My great adventure has begun!"
Thank you Sutton Foster and Little Women the musical for gracing my mental sound track right now. I feel incredible. Heart pounding, flutters in my stomach, tingling in my veins kind of incredible! I'm doing this! Saying piss off to the world and school and money and lets go get ourselves broke exploring frozen natureland all by ourselves with no one tagging along, holding us down, or helping us out. I'm sitting in this tiny Aerolineas Argentinos plane about to leave BsAs with $200 in my bank account and a carryon of stuff. I just love this anticipatory feeling... like knowing I'm on the verge of something unknown and feeling so empowered, so monumental that my own daring to stand on this edge overrides whatever fear I feel looking over it. I think that's the rush I'll miss when I go back home. But the perspective I'll have gained and the courage! What can't I do after Argentina? I have no excuse to ever be afraid or doubt myself ever again. That's the feeling of travel that I just can't adequately communicate, that I wish for people back home to know.
1 de Octubre,2010
"Here I go. There's no turning back! My great adventure has begun!"
Thank you Sutton Foster and Little Women the musical for gracing my mental sound track right now. I feel incredible. Heart pounding, flutters in my stomach, tingling in my veins kind of incredible! I'm doing this! Saying piss off to the world and school and money and lets go get ourselves broke exploring frozen natureland all by ourselves with no one tagging along, holding us down, or helping us out. I'm sitting in this tiny Aerolineas Argentinos plane about to leave BsAs with $200 in my bank account and a carryon of stuff. I just love this anticipatory feeling... like knowing I'm on the verge of something unknown and feeling so empowered, so monumental that my own daring to stand on this edge overrides whatever fear I feel looking over it. I think that's the rush I'll miss when I go back home. But the perspective I'll have gained and the courage! What can't I do after Argentina? I have no excuse to ever be afraid or doubt myself ever again. That's the feeling of travel that I just can't adequately communicate, that I wish for people back home to know.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Called on account of rain and road blocks
Well, once again I arrived at the Teatro Astral with my dance shoes and cough drops, all warmed up despite the wet and chilly weather outside. This time there definitely were auditions going on as there were tons of tiny girls and flouncy boys running around in rehearsal wear. I could taste the nerves in the lobby air, and they tasted just like the ones that buzz around my belly in auditions north of the Equator. And just like so many of those, today's audition was behind schedule. But because its South America, the disorganization, like everything else down here, was only magnified! So they told me and everybody else in my group to come back NEXT TUESDAY and MAYBE we'll get in to audition. So its just another week of waiting, building anticipation, and memorizing Spanish lyrics. I suppose I can do that.
But instead of going back to class, which I'd already resolved not to do today, I went exploring downtown in the light rain, had lunch at a cafe, and stumbled upon El Ateneo, an old opera house converted into a huge and lavishly gorgeous bookstore. Gold embellishments all up and down the cream colored walls, a mural of goddesses and angels in the expansive rotunda hovering overhead, a rich red curtain shading the old stage area that now acts as a cafe, and my favorite, comfy armchairs in the areas that used to serve as opera boxes for anyone to settle in and read the hours away... which is exactly what I did! My reading in Spanish has gotten so fast, and yet still I managed to sit there for over 4 hours. The afternoon was far from wasted in my opinion.
So that's how my today went. Come to think of it I should really recount my weekend too!
I spent Saturday and Sunday in Rosario, the third largest city in Argentina that lies a few hours Northwest of Buenos Aires on the Rio Parana. It's the birthplace of renown Argentine revolutionaries Che Guevara and Leo Messi, and it was lovely. It still retains the busy beat of a big city but is so much more laid back and friendly than the monstrous BsAs (honestly I think any city by comparison would be). I hypothesize that the calm amicability of the city is due to its cool refreshing breezes from the river, but being a SoCal native I tend to invest tranquil qualities in large bodies of water, so I'm kinda biased.
We arrived Saturday afternoon much later than scheduled due to a strike on the highways that forced our bus to take an alternate route, turning a 2 hour drive into a 5 hour one. We lunched at a tenedor libre, or as we know it in the States a buffet, and lazed away our resulting food coma on a cruise on the river. On the little islands and marshes across from the city, we floated by kyakers, fisherman, amigos drinking mate, a few dilapidated houses that I'm sure still serve as someone's shelter, and herds of cows grazing freely on the river banks... what a life, huh?
Saturday evening us girls went out for imitation Mexican food and margaritas... eran no buenas, lamentablemente. And Sunday we went on a bus tour of the city, seeing the view of the skyline from the great silver suspension bridge, the tiny fresh fish markets, and finally we ended at El Monumento de la Bandera, a gargantuous tribute to the place where was raised the first flag of Argentina. It is an awe striking, jaw dropping, neck craning, camera flashing, cartwheeling down the multitude of steps (which yes of course I did!) kind of beautiful that simply dwarfs any kind of artistic achievement you think you may have had in your lifetime. Plus it was a stunningly gorgeous day with lots of sunshine, so we wandered through the monument and over to the parks on the riverbank where city people were gathering for picnics and kites alongside the many artisan street vendors. That's one of the things that I've decided I really do love about city life. Cities are so populated, so concentrated with people that its impossible to live in one and not be social! You share all the same space! You can't dry your laundry on the balcony without your neighbors knowing what kind of underwear you prefer. And if you wanna get out of the house, enjoy the weekend sun, walk your cooped up dog, then you go to the city parks! It's like everyone shares the same backyard! In the suburbs you can exist solitarily for weeks or months on end without ever talking to your neighbors. I mean privacy is great... but so is human interaction!
I bought a necklace from a Rasta named Chaman, and ended up sitting a chatting with him for about an hour. He told me about how he spends all the money he makes selling his jewelry, traveling around with his reggae band, but that he still loves to come home to his little hut on the bank of the Parana inside the Rosario nature preserve. He also told me that the stones in the necklace I bought symbolize friendship and protection. Well, maybe its a little late in my travels to attain such assurance, but at least now I have a token of international friendship that'll forever harken my memory to the immensity of good fortune I've been doused with down here. What more could I ask for??
(hmmm... well on second thought maybe just a little punctuality??)
But instead of going back to class, which I'd already resolved not to do today, I went exploring downtown in the light rain, had lunch at a cafe, and stumbled upon El Ateneo, an old opera house converted into a huge and lavishly gorgeous bookstore. Gold embellishments all up and down the cream colored walls, a mural of goddesses and angels in the expansive rotunda hovering overhead, a rich red curtain shading the old stage area that now acts as a cafe, and my favorite, comfy armchairs in the areas that used to serve as opera boxes for anyone to settle in and read the hours away... which is exactly what I did! My reading in Spanish has gotten so fast, and yet still I managed to sit there for over 4 hours. The afternoon was far from wasted in my opinion.
So that's how my today went. Come to think of it I should really recount my weekend too!
I spent Saturday and Sunday in Rosario, the third largest city in Argentina that lies a few hours Northwest of Buenos Aires on the Rio Parana. It's the birthplace of renown Argentine revolutionaries Che Guevara and Leo Messi, and it was lovely. It still retains the busy beat of a big city but is so much more laid back and friendly than the monstrous BsAs (honestly I think any city by comparison would be). I hypothesize that the calm amicability of the city is due to its cool refreshing breezes from the river, but being a SoCal native I tend to invest tranquil qualities in large bodies of water, so I'm kinda biased.
We arrived Saturday afternoon much later than scheduled due to a strike on the highways that forced our bus to take an alternate route, turning a 2 hour drive into a 5 hour one. We lunched at a tenedor libre, or as we know it in the States a buffet, and lazed away our resulting food coma on a cruise on the river. On the little islands and marshes across from the city, we floated by kyakers, fisherman, amigos drinking mate, a few dilapidated houses that I'm sure still serve as someone's shelter, and herds of cows grazing freely on the river banks... what a life, huh?
Saturday evening us girls went out for imitation Mexican food and margaritas... eran no buenas, lamentablemente. And Sunday we went on a bus tour of the city, seeing the view of the skyline from the great silver suspension bridge, the tiny fresh fish markets, and finally we ended at El Monumento de la Bandera, a gargantuous tribute to the place where was raised the first flag of Argentina. It is an awe striking, jaw dropping, neck craning, camera flashing, cartwheeling down the multitude of steps (which yes of course I did!) kind of beautiful that simply dwarfs any kind of artistic achievement you think you may have had in your lifetime. Plus it was a stunningly gorgeous day with lots of sunshine, so we wandered through the monument and over to the parks on the riverbank where city people were gathering for picnics and kites alongside the many artisan street vendors. That's one of the things that I've decided I really do love about city life. Cities are so populated, so concentrated with people that its impossible to live in one and not be social! You share all the same space! You can't dry your laundry on the balcony without your neighbors knowing what kind of underwear you prefer. And if you wanna get out of the house, enjoy the weekend sun, walk your cooped up dog, then you go to the city parks! It's like everyone shares the same backyard! In the suburbs you can exist solitarily for weeks or months on end without ever talking to your neighbors. I mean privacy is great... but so is human interaction!
I bought a necklace from a Rasta named Chaman, and ended up sitting a chatting with him for about an hour. He told me about how he spends all the money he makes selling his jewelry, traveling around with his reggae band, but that he still loves to come home to his little hut on the bank of the Parana inside the Rosario nature preserve. He also told me that the stones in the necklace I bought symbolize friendship and protection. Well, maybe its a little late in my travels to attain such assurance, but at least now I have a token of international friendship that'll forever harken my memory to the immensity of good fortune I've been doused with down here. What more could I ask for??
(hmmm... well on second thought maybe just a little punctuality??)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Back in Action!
Remember in my last entry how I said that I really miss performing??
Well, I think Providence heard me complaining and decided to do something about it.
Last Thursday my oh-so-friendly-tango-teach pulled me aside in class for what I was anticipating would be a terribly uncomfortable chat, when he told me about a musical theatre audition that he'd heard about and thought I'd be interested in. Oh! Well... now he just went and did something really cool and while I want to not like the guy I gotta say......GAAAAH! THANK YOU!!
The show is Dracula el musical written by Angel Mahler and directed by Pepito Cibrian, two pretty big deals down here aparently. Think Andrew Lloyd Webber and Cameron Mackinosh of South America... YEAH! And all I know is the address of the theatre and to show up sometime between 12:00pm and 8:00pm this Monday thru Thursday. So basically, this is a total absolute shot in the dark. I mean, I haven't had a voice lesson or a gym membership in 4 months, I don't have any of my audition materials, repertoire, or wardrobe, and I have like 2 days to prepare but no clue what I'm preparing for! OH, and did I mention its obviously all in Spanish???
...Thus went all my initial fears and doubts scurring about my brain in sudden reckless anxiety.
Then I said to myself, "Kelly?"
"Yes?" I answered.
"If you could describe your dream job, what would it be?"
"Pssh! That's easy Kelly! It would be performing in musical theatre all around the world!"
"You're crazy! Where's the money in that??"
"Um, excuse me, it's all about artistic fulfillment..."
"Oh please..."
"You shut up! Don't get me started..."
But I digress.
Basically I realized that the reason I'd come all this way was staring me in the face and there was no ignoring or walking away from it. I mean, it's not like I have anything to lose. I have no reputation to uphold or face to save. I have a plethora of audition songs I've memorized by way of busting them out in my car in LA traffic. And I now own a pair of genuine Argentine leather tango shoes perfect for onstage dancing. I can find a way to make this work.
So, I collected my headshots, translated my resume, downloaded some sheet music for an old go-to favorite, and dusted off the vocal chords while the family was out (our walls are very thin... if the neighbors heard of me as much as I can hear of them... we may start receiving hate mail).
Today was the big day! It was Dia del Estudiante, Student's Day, so we all had the day off of classes, which pretty much the entire city took advantage of because also it was the first day of Spring, Dia de la Primavera, where everyone buys each other fresh flowers and hangs out in the Palermo parks to drink mate and cerveza with friends (ps. I love this country's social life!). I, however, like a well honed Bachelor's-of-Theatre-Arts-holding LA actor spent the day trekking around my barrio printing out photos and sheet music, doing my yoga and vocal excercizes, and picking out the perfect audition outfit (a feat only made more difficult by the reduced selection in my closet). I even treated myself to a cab ride downtown so I could arrive in style.
OOOOOOOOooooooooh even if I tried, I couldn't describe just how legitimate I felt chattin with the cabby as we weaved thru the traffic, I becoming more exhilarated and nervous with every second. It was the perfect my-life-in-the-big-city-movie-moment.
When we got to the theatre, I thanked the cabby for his well wishes and donned my game face, only to be told that they just wanted my headshot and audition form and to give me an appointment time to come back next week for the actual audition.
Oh.
Well, I give myself props for being TOO prepared on TWO days notice at least. The actual audition itself doesn't even require us to come with a song prepared. We'll be given a peice from the show to learn and rehearse briefly before singing it one at a time. And did I mention that we'll be singing for Cibrian and Mahler themselves? Personally?? Even Sofi and Ana were like "Wha!? You're gonna meet Pepito Cibrian in person???" Well.... aparently. It will probably go down in the books as the ballsyiest/coolest thing I've ever done. : /
Honestly, even though I didn't even DO any audition today, just the getting prepared and psyching myself out and downing tea and cough drops and practicing slating in Spanish was SO REFRESHING! I just love acting like an actor again!
Well, I think Providence heard me complaining and decided to do something about it.
Last Thursday my oh-so-friendly-tango-teach pulled me aside in class for what I was anticipating would be a terribly uncomfortable chat, when he told me about a musical theatre audition that he'd heard about and thought I'd be interested in. Oh! Well... now he just went and did something really cool and while I want to not like the guy I gotta say......GAAAAH! THANK YOU!!
The show is Dracula el musical written by Angel Mahler and directed by Pepito Cibrian, two pretty big deals down here aparently. Think Andrew Lloyd Webber and Cameron Mackinosh of South America... YEAH! And all I know is the address of the theatre and to show up sometime between 12:00pm and 8:00pm this Monday thru Thursday. So basically, this is a total absolute shot in the dark. I mean, I haven't had a voice lesson or a gym membership in 4 months, I don't have any of my audition materials, repertoire, or wardrobe, and I have like 2 days to prepare but no clue what I'm preparing for! OH, and did I mention its obviously all in Spanish???
...Thus went all my initial fears and doubts scurring about my brain in sudden reckless anxiety.
Then I said to myself, "Kelly?"
"Yes?" I answered.
"If you could describe your dream job, what would it be?"
"Pssh! That's easy Kelly! It would be performing in musical theatre all around the world!"
"You're crazy! Where's the money in that??"
"Um, excuse me, it's all about artistic fulfillment..."
"Oh please..."
"You shut up! Don't get me started..."
But I digress.
Basically I realized that the reason I'd come all this way was staring me in the face and there was no ignoring or walking away from it. I mean, it's not like I have anything to lose. I have no reputation to uphold or face to save. I have a plethora of audition songs I've memorized by way of busting them out in my car in LA traffic. And I now own a pair of genuine Argentine leather tango shoes perfect for onstage dancing. I can find a way to make this work.
So, I collected my headshots, translated my resume, downloaded some sheet music for an old go-to favorite, and dusted off the vocal chords while the family was out (our walls are very thin... if the neighbors heard of me as much as I can hear of them... we may start receiving hate mail).
Today was the big day! It was Dia del Estudiante, Student's Day, so we all had the day off of classes, which pretty much the entire city took advantage of because also it was the first day of Spring, Dia de la Primavera, where everyone buys each other fresh flowers and hangs out in the Palermo parks to drink mate and cerveza with friends (ps. I love this country's social life!). I, however, like a well honed Bachelor's-of-Theatre-Arts-holding LA actor spent the day trekking around my barrio printing out photos and sheet music, doing my yoga and vocal excercizes, and picking out the perfect audition outfit (a feat only made more difficult by the reduced selection in my closet). I even treated myself to a cab ride downtown so I could arrive in style.
OOOOOOOOooooooooh even if I tried, I couldn't describe just how legitimate I felt chattin with the cabby as we weaved thru the traffic, I becoming more exhilarated and nervous with every second. It was the perfect my-life-in-the-big-city-movie-moment.
When we got to the theatre, I thanked the cabby for his well wishes and donned my game face, only to be told that they just wanted my headshot and audition form and to give me an appointment time to come back next week for the actual audition.
Oh.
Well, I give myself props for being TOO prepared on TWO days notice at least. The actual audition itself doesn't even require us to come with a song prepared. We'll be given a peice from the show to learn and rehearse briefly before singing it one at a time. And did I mention that we'll be singing for Cibrian and Mahler themselves? Personally?? Even Sofi and Ana were like "Wha!? You're gonna meet Pepito Cibrian in person???" Well.... aparently. It will probably go down in the books as the ballsyiest/coolest thing I've ever done. : /
Honestly, even though I didn't even DO any audition today, just the getting prepared and psyching myself out and downing tea and cough drops and practicing slating in Spanish was SO REFRESHING! I just love acting like an actor again!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Mascaras en Fuga
I went to another very interesting piece of theatre today.
My teacher from Central de Integracion Teatral, Geraldine dramaturged and starred in this a show centered around masks in yet another hole-in-the-wall-wouldn't-even-know-it-was-there-unless-you-already-knew-it-was-there theatre in Palermo. I always feel super legit finding places like that!
It takes place on a train, not in any specific location, but a space and time in transit.
The train attendant, wearing a half mask that covers all his face except his mouth and chin, wanders up and down the stage calling out in gibberish language (when wearing a mask, you always speak as an extranjero, not as yourself).
A girl (played by Geraldine, mi maestra!) with wildly unkempt hair carefully obscuring her face, enters nervously carrying a red tote and sits down. The man, obviously enamored, takes her ticket and in an elongated aside to the audience rehearses how to give her a flower as a token of his adoration in the form of a mimed dance! Unfortunately for him when the lights change back to reality, the girl has skirted the train car leaving her seat now empty. He leaves her rose resting there awaiting her return.
An old man (also played by Geraldine) enters with a full face mask that obscures both eyes and mouth, shuffles up and down the ailses against the simulated motion of the train and finally comes to rest on the opposite bench from where the girl was just sitting. He too carries a familiar red tote. The train attendant asks the trembling old man for his passport and examines it scrupulously, then his train ticket which the poor man can't seem to find in his pockets. When the attendant has his back turned away, the old man hurriedly shuffles off in the same direction as the girl previously.
The attendant is enraged and rushes off in search of the little old freeloader. In his absence, a suave business man (Geraldine again!) in a suit, scarf, and another full face mask enters the scene confidently, again with a red tote, and sits in the girl's seat next to the rose. Intrigued, he picks it up, examines it, and smugly tucks it into his lapel. The attendant, obviously disgruntled, reenters and demands to see the business man's passport and ticket. The business man then presents to him, perhaps a bit too confidently, the passport of the tremulous little old man! Now aware that he has an imposter on board, the attendant struggles to subdue him, but just as their fight reaches its climax, the train crashes to a screeching halt. Blackout.
Lights up. Police sirens. The imposter has escaped and the attendant holds a newspaper (clever written in gibberish language... gotta love attention to details!) with the hairy girl's photo on the front page. She is a fugitive. As he reads, a very attractive oriental woman (Geraldine, obvio!) in full face mask, with a tell tale mangy mess of hair enters and immediately obscures herself with a large fan. Obviously she has caught the suspicious eye of the attendant, but she proceeds to do a seductive dance with her fan to distract his attention. He isn't fooled. The girl sees the futility of her actions and decides to abandone them and ceremoniously removes the oriental mask. Her true face however, is still completely obcured by her hair. The attendant tries to cuff her, but realizes he just can't. His initial feelings for her still linger. Then in another almost ritualistic dance, he removes his mask and she replaces it with a black fabric cap that covers his whole head. She dons one as well and for a fleeting shared moment the two are utterly faceless. Then, he gives her his guise, she assumes his identity and marches out of the train car, abandoning the solitary disoriented attendant who lost his identity to love.
Only seconds later though... she returns! She can't do it either! She returns his face, which he in turn, lays to rest with hers in her red tote, and together the two of them turn upstage, remove their last and final masks obscuring their real selves from the outside world, and exit triumphantly hand in hand.
Mascaras en Fuga, Masks in flight.
It was interesting to see how many ways of masking were used: actual masks, hair, caps, fan, simply turning away from the audience. I took it as a representation of the multiple layers of deception and protection that we build up and envelop ourselves in on a daily basis, letting only a select few past those barrier walls. Also just how many guises one person can don. Geraldine played one character, who moreover assumed the character of 4 other masks on top of that. How challenging to play a character within a character, and constantly changing the identity which is obscuring the identity which you are already affecting artificially!
There's also the question of flight, fleeing, being a fugitive. What is it that we all are running and hiding from? Reality? Honesty? Ourselves? What is it about our true faces that so offend?
I don a mask everyday. It's true, even in comfortable settings, but especially so in my life down here. I pretend to be a local who knows her way around every time I leave the house. Los portenos all maintain a very serious facade on the streets, no smiling almost ever, despite how openly emotional they are among amigos y familia. I admit, sometimes its exhausting to constantly work for obscuring the identity I carry with me, that was forged in another land and lifestyle. I do feel like I'm living an alternate life sometimes, like I'm not who I am back home. That person doesn't fit into the world down here as snugly as she does up there. I'm figuring that by the time this extended acting excercise is coming to an end, my transformation will have become complete and I will not know exactly how to discard my Argentine self upon returning to my own homebase. I've been desperately missing the stage, and the exhilaration of rehearsal and performance and audience... but I've just now realized that I am performing everyday, for everyone that I meet. This could be the most valuable and challenging role I've ever played.
Hmmmm.... I wonder if I could put portena on my resume??
My teacher from Central de Integracion Teatral, Geraldine dramaturged and starred in this a show centered around masks in yet another hole-in-the-wall-wouldn't-even-know-it-was-there-unless-you-already-knew-it-was-there theatre in Palermo. I always feel super legit finding places like that!
It takes place on a train, not in any specific location, but a space and time in transit.
The train attendant, wearing a half mask that covers all his face except his mouth and chin, wanders up and down the stage calling out in gibberish language (when wearing a mask, you always speak as an extranjero, not as yourself).
A girl (played by Geraldine, mi maestra!) with wildly unkempt hair carefully obscuring her face, enters nervously carrying a red tote and sits down. The man, obviously enamored, takes her ticket and in an elongated aside to the audience rehearses how to give her a flower as a token of his adoration in the form of a mimed dance! Unfortunately for him when the lights change back to reality, the girl has skirted the train car leaving her seat now empty. He leaves her rose resting there awaiting her return.
An old man (also played by Geraldine) enters with a full face mask that obscures both eyes and mouth, shuffles up and down the ailses against the simulated motion of the train and finally comes to rest on the opposite bench from where the girl was just sitting. He too carries a familiar red tote. The train attendant asks the trembling old man for his passport and examines it scrupulously, then his train ticket which the poor man can't seem to find in his pockets. When the attendant has his back turned away, the old man hurriedly shuffles off in the same direction as the girl previously.
The attendant is enraged and rushes off in search of the little old freeloader. In his absence, a suave business man (Geraldine again!) in a suit, scarf, and another full face mask enters the scene confidently, again with a red tote, and sits in the girl's seat next to the rose. Intrigued, he picks it up, examines it, and smugly tucks it into his lapel. The attendant, obviously disgruntled, reenters and demands to see the business man's passport and ticket. The business man then presents to him, perhaps a bit too confidently, the passport of the tremulous little old man! Now aware that he has an imposter on board, the attendant struggles to subdue him, but just as their fight reaches its climax, the train crashes to a screeching halt. Blackout.
Lights up. Police sirens. The imposter has escaped and the attendant holds a newspaper (clever written in gibberish language... gotta love attention to details!) with the hairy girl's photo on the front page. She is a fugitive. As he reads, a very attractive oriental woman (Geraldine, obvio!) in full face mask, with a tell tale mangy mess of hair enters and immediately obscures herself with a large fan. Obviously she has caught the suspicious eye of the attendant, but she proceeds to do a seductive dance with her fan to distract his attention. He isn't fooled. The girl sees the futility of her actions and decides to abandone them and ceremoniously removes the oriental mask. Her true face however, is still completely obcured by her hair. The attendant tries to cuff her, but realizes he just can't. His initial feelings for her still linger. Then in another almost ritualistic dance, he removes his mask and she replaces it with a black fabric cap that covers his whole head. She dons one as well and for a fleeting shared moment the two are utterly faceless. Then, he gives her his guise, she assumes his identity and marches out of the train car, abandoning the solitary disoriented attendant who lost his identity to love.
Only seconds later though... she returns! She can't do it either! She returns his face, which he in turn, lays to rest with hers in her red tote, and together the two of them turn upstage, remove their last and final masks obscuring their real selves from the outside world, and exit triumphantly hand in hand.
Mascaras en Fuga, Masks in flight.
It was interesting to see how many ways of masking were used: actual masks, hair, caps, fan, simply turning away from the audience. I took it as a representation of the multiple layers of deception and protection that we build up and envelop ourselves in on a daily basis, letting only a select few past those barrier walls. Also just how many guises one person can don. Geraldine played one character, who moreover assumed the character of 4 other masks on top of that. How challenging to play a character within a character, and constantly changing the identity which is obscuring the identity which you are already affecting artificially!
There's also the question of flight, fleeing, being a fugitive. What is it that we all are running and hiding from? Reality? Honesty? Ourselves? What is it about our true faces that so offend?
I don a mask everyday. It's true, even in comfortable settings, but especially so in my life down here. I pretend to be a local who knows her way around every time I leave the house. Los portenos all maintain a very serious facade on the streets, no smiling almost ever, despite how openly emotional they are among amigos y familia. I admit, sometimes its exhausting to constantly work for obscuring the identity I carry with me, that was forged in another land and lifestyle. I do feel like I'm living an alternate life sometimes, like I'm not who I am back home. That person doesn't fit into the world down here as snugly as she does up there. I'm figuring that by the time this extended acting excercise is coming to an end, my transformation will have become complete and I will not know exactly how to discard my Argentine self upon returning to my own homebase. I've been desperately missing the stage, and the exhilaration of rehearsal and performance and audience... but I've just now realized that I am performing everyday, for everyone that I meet. This could be the most valuable and challenging role I've ever played.
Hmmmm.... I wonder if I could put portena on my resume??
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