I wanted to post this for you so that you might see how I represented the poetry of every day speech. I am excited about performing our original works.
Russ:
Uhhh –so the questions is what is the worst job I ever had?
Having to wash windows for my mother
Because I was tall so I always got to do the windows
And she liked to do it in vinegar and I hate the smell of vinegar
So that was the worst job I can think of
….ummm I don’t remember that but I still don’t like vinegary things
I don’t like the smell of vinegar or pickles
I like sweet pickles
but not sour pickles
so you know whether I am still associating vinegar with my mother
or I if I didn’t like vinegar prior to that task I don’t recall
I didn’t mind other things
I mean I would have to clean dishes or vacuum
I don’t remember disliking those jobs or
cutting the grass it’s not like I hated doing things around the house
but I did not like washing the windows.
(Did she know you hated washing the windows?)
Probably I probably was not coy about that
Of course she was my mother …
You think a child could get off doing something
Because they didn’t want to
Oh long after
Leaving the house had nothing to do with it
I mean no no
My mother uh
Always had a list of chores for me to do
She was a widow for seventeen years.
My dad died twenty years ago Thanksgiving week
And she died three years ago
So yeah that’s seventeen years
But whenever my brother or I would visit her
She would always have a list
It was usually a small list of mechanical type things
like replacing the filter
I never minded doing those
But I guess the windows.
That was maybe just a spell
Maybe high school and college
I don’t remember having to do it too much
After that
(Who washes the windows in your house now?)
If they’re washed I wash them
I just use Windex or one of those other versions
But I do retain I guess as so many children do
Ways of doing things
For instance I guess my mother
taught me it might have been my father but probably my mother
That newspaper was a good thing
to use to wash windows
And so the last time I washed windows at home
I guess I used newspaper
Which works except you
get the print on your hand
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Looking Back to Capture Purpose
Two hours until I experience my first graduate committee meeting... Honestly I'm not nervous, but rather am anxious to get everyone's feedback vocally and in a more personal setting. It is such a great process to be a part of as an actor. These committee experiences throughout our time here at the University of Louisville should help us to develop an awareness of our weak points and a process by which we approach our personal growth in hope of achieving success.
My skills have greatly increased and reawakened as a result of having been part of this Playscript Analysis class. The characters and plays that we read over the course of this semester have helped me to connect to the reason it is that I pursue theatre… to express the human experience and bring about thought and change through my work. I need the world to listen to what I have to say and how I say it. As Hamm so wonderfully puts, “I hope the day will come when you’ll really need to have me listen to you, and need to hear my voice, any voice. (Pause)” The stage is the only place where one can live out all his multi-faceted aspects, and it allows you to communicate with people in the world like no other form of expression.
As I sit here writing my last blog entry for the semester, I can't help but smile at how powerfully affected I am by this semester… Moving forward through this graduate program, and life, I start to see the little reasons behind my activities in life and ways I go about them. I’m observing myself more and more as time goes by, analyzing and critiquing my personal processes and idiosyncrasies. Most importantly, I’m developing my love of theatre and learning how to most usefully contribute to the creative process. Through this self analysis and observation, I must never let go of the reason I’ve come to this world: to love what I do. Like Layal, I do not want freedom, but will gladly be a slave to the theatre, if it will only take care of me.
Layal: I don’t want freedom – to be alone? / I don’t care for it, I like protection / all I want is to feel it, love / I am crazy for it
I hope to approach theatre with this attitude. We’ll see if it takes care of me. Thanks for a great semester.
My skills have greatly increased and reawakened as a result of having been part of this Playscript Analysis class. The characters and plays that we read over the course of this semester have helped me to connect to the reason it is that I pursue theatre… to express the human experience and bring about thought and change through my work. I need the world to listen to what I have to say and how I say it. As Hamm so wonderfully puts, “I hope the day will come when you’ll really need to have me listen to you, and need to hear my voice, any voice. (Pause)” The stage is the only place where one can live out all his multi-faceted aspects, and it allows you to communicate with people in the world like no other form of expression.
As I sit here writing my last blog entry for the semester, I can't help but smile at how powerfully affected I am by this semester… Moving forward through this graduate program, and life, I start to see the little reasons behind my activities in life and ways I go about them. I’m observing myself more and more as time goes by, analyzing and critiquing my personal processes and idiosyncrasies. Most importantly, I’m developing my love of theatre and learning how to most usefully contribute to the creative process. Through this self analysis and observation, I must never let go of the reason I’ve come to this world: to love what I do. Like Layal, I do not want freedom, but will gladly be a slave to the theatre, if it will only take care of me.
Layal: I don’t want freedom – to be alone? / I don’t care for it, I like protection / all I want is to feel it, love / I am crazy for it
I hope to approach theatre with this attitude. We’ll see if it takes care of me. Thanks for a great semester.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Game Over
This is the first scene to the play Game Over....and here's hoping that one day I could finish it up.
One thing I wanted to capture was the communication between the characters and how they related to not just each other, but to the audience as well. The characters are indeed strange, but I feel like that capture that sort of "beckett-esque" quality of banality. The banal surface compared to its contradicting underlayer. Hirno (Hear-No) is based off of Nagg, which I took directly form that part where he's telling the monologue about the tailor and how no matter the number of times he's told the story he continues, much to Hamm's protest of him even speaking. Sano (say -no) is based off of Nell, who is the first to die in the play and her body just lies in the bin. I want Sano to have died first and I want Sano to be the one wanting to "move on" to the next part of the afterlife more than anyone, which is suggested by Sano's use of body to further desire with his lack of words. I feel like there is a certain sort of undying determination when a person has to slam their body around to get a point across. Lastly, Sino (see-no) is based off of Hamm who has sight problems. At first I wanted Sano to be Hamm as to make a comment that he talks entirely too much during Endgame. Anyway, that was the start of the thought process. I just really wanted to play with ideas of life after death and this idea that Clov has an entirely different life outside of that room, possibly one where he takes action rather than getting stuck in a Beckett reality of nothignness; the other room is a room full of something/anything.
Game Over
Scene 1
The stage is a room with no windows. There is a doorway stage right. Three bins sit center stage. The lights are reminiscent of an overcast desert morning; oddly bright with no real indication of color.
Hirno: Is he gone?
Sino: It can’t be…It can’t be.
Hirno: It shouldn’t be. (Looks over at Sino) It shouldn’t be so? Has he come?
Sino: It can’t be…It can’t be.
Hirno: Do you think if he came he would bring fresh air? Trapped in a jar perhaps? I love fresh air that has been trapped. Makes me remember home. (Looks at Sino). Are you bothering to listen at all?
Sino: Turn the light on and perhaps I shall tell you. Being able to show you and tell you was something I loved to do. He won’t come. Can’t come. He is trapped, trapped, trapped…trapped.
Hirno: Bitter. Fresh Air. Do you remember the breezes? We used to enjoy the breezes once upon a time….that fresh air…not knowing…never knowing.
A loud crash noise is heard and a plume of dust is sent in from the doorway stage right. The lights flicker and the sharpening of blades and a piercing scream is heard. The noises die just as suddenly as they were heard.
Sino: What did you say?
Hirno: I said…
Once again a loud crash noise is heard and a plume of dust is sent in from the doorway stage right. The lights flicker and the sharpening of blades and a piercing scream is heard. The noises die just as suddenly as they were heard.
Sino: I thought so. You always knew your way with words. I haven’t seen him in a long time, nor have I seen him in a long time. (Long pause. Hirno belches and the sounds of “Divinites Du Styx” from Gluck’s Alceste are heard pouring form the stage right doorway. The song should start on the third “Divinites..” and play through to the the end.) Are you listening to me, why don’t you answer?
Sano rises from the third steel bin. He rises and claps his hands together, dust flies in the air. He stares at the audience, then stares at Sino and Hirno. He tries to scream and silence is heard. He plugs his ears with his fingers and returns down.
Hirno: He’ll be the first to go that one!
Sano’s arms rise up out of the bin followed by his head. He makes eye contact with Hirno then sinks back into the bin.
Sino begins to hit the side of his bin with his head in a percussive manner that follows a steady beat. Hirno and Sano begin to add to it with their hands beating on their bin. The tempo over time gets faster and faster and faster until finally, a shadowy figure appears in the stage right doorway. All noise and movement ceases.
Hirno, Sino, and Sano all retire into their bins.
Blackout.
One thing I wanted to capture was the communication between the characters and how they related to not just each other, but to the audience as well. The characters are indeed strange, but I feel like that capture that sort of "beckett-esque" quality of banality. The banal surface compared to its contradicting underlayer. Hirno (Hear-No) is based off of Nagg, which I took directly form that part where he's telling the monologue about the tailor and how no matter the number of times he's told the story he continues, much to Hamm's protest of him even speaking. Sano (say -no) is based off of Nell, who is the first to die in the play and her body just lies in the bin. I want Sano to have died first and I want Sano to be the one wanting to "move on" to the next part of the afterlife more than anyone, which is suggested by Sano's use of body to further desire with his lack of words. I feel like there is a certain sort of undying determination when a person has to slam their body around to get a point across. Lastly, Sino (see-no) is based off of Hamm who has sight problems. At first I wanted Sano to be Hamm as to make a comment that he talks entirely too much during Endgame. Anyway, that was the start of the thought process. I just really wanted to play with ideas of life after death and this idea that Clov has an entirely different life outside of that room, possibly one where he takes action rather than getting stuck in a Beckett reality of nothignness; the other room is a room full of something/anything.
Game Over
Scene 1
The stage is a room with no windows. There is a doorway stage right. Three bins sit center stage. The lights are reminiscent of an overcast desert morning; oddly bright with no real indication of color.
Hirno: Is he gone?
Sino: It can’t be…It can’t be.
Hirno: It shouldn’t be. (Looks over at Sino) It shouldn’t be so? Has he come?
Sino: It can’t be…It can’t be.
Hirno: Do you think if he came he would bring fresh air? Trapped in a jar perhaps? I love fresh air that has been trapped. Makes me remember home. (Looks at Sino). Are you bothering to listen at all?
Sino: Turn the light on and perhaps I shall tell you. Being able to show you and tell you was something I loved to do. He won’t come. Can’t come. He is trapped, trapped, trapped…trapped.
Hirno: Bitter. Fresh Air. Do you remember the breezes? We used to enjoy the breezes once upon a time….that fresh air…not knowing…never knowing.
A loud crash noise is heard and a plume of dust is sent in from the doorway stage right. The lights flicker and the sharpening of blades and a piercing scream is heard. The noises die just as suddenly as they were heard.
Sino: What did you say?
Hirno: I said…
Once again a loud crash noise is heard and a plume of dust is sent in from the doorway stage right. The lights flicker and the sharpening of blades and a piercing scream is heard. The noises die just as suddenly as they were heard.
Sino: I thought so. You always knew your way with words. I haven’t seen him in a long time, nor have I seen him in a long time. (Long pause. Hirno belches and the sounds of “Divinites Du Styx” from Gluck’s Alceste are heard pouring form the stage right doorway. The song should start on the third “Divinites..” and play through to the the end.) Are you listening to me, why don’t you answer?
Sano rises from the third steel bin. He rises and claps his hands together, dust flies in the air. He stares at the audience, then stares at Sino and Hirno. He tries to scream and silence is heard. He plugs his ears with his fingers and returns down.
Hirno: He’ll be the first to go that one!
Sano’s arms rise up out of the bin followed by his head. He makes eye contact with Hirno then sinks back into the bin.
Sino begins to hit the side of his bin with his head in a percussive manner that follows a steady beat. Hirno and Sano begin to add to it with their hands beating on their bin. The tempo over time gets faster and faster and faster until finally, a shadowy figure appears in the stage right doorway. All noise and movement ceases.
Hirno, Sino, and Sano all retire into their bins.
Blackout.
Heiress Hollyhock
I’ve decided to post my play from the finals up here. I had to make a few changes, including the title. The name Princess didn’t really make sense for present-day America, so I changed it to Heiress Hollyhock, which is also really annoying. Also, I added a little bit more to the ending so that it we would understand why Batman would need to show up. The things in quotes are dialogue and stage directions from the original Aoi No Uye.
(The scene takes place in the courtyard of the Hollyhock House designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in Los Angeles. It can either be in the real courtyard or a remake. Around this whole courtyard is the house with a balcony. The audience sits in the courtyard space that is not the performance space. This performance space that represents Heiress Hollyhock’s home is a cement patio, a door upstage center and stage right, stairs that lead to a balcony, and a tall wall a few meters behind the bed. Just at the top of the stairs and stage right is Heiress Hollyhock’s bed. There is also a bucket next the bed and a spotlight at the edge of the balcony downstage right of the bed.)
Heiress Hollyhock lies on her bed as Courtney enters from stage left carrying a breakfast platter and goes up the stairs to Holly.
Courtney- Here’s some breakfast, Holly. Are you feeling better yet?
Courtney gives Holly her breakfast. Holly barely touches it throughout.
Holly- The morning sickness is even worse today. Also, I can’t stop thinking about Roxanne, and that’s just making my nausea worse.
The doorbell rings.
Courtney- That might be him.
Courtney goes downstairs and opens the center door. Enter Bynum.
Bynum- Good morning.
Courtney- You must be Bynum Walker. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Courtney, Heiress Hollyhock’s assistant. You must know that the she’s sick. We’ve sent her to her doctor, psychiatrist, acupuncturist, and masseuse, but none of them could cure her. Now she’s taken a more spiritual turn.
That’s why we need you here. We need your skills in the homeopathic magic of Voodoo.
Bynum- Right. Let’s see, if I can remember correctly, Heiress wants me to bind her to her husband Genji and see if Genji’s mistress, Roxanne has put any spells on the Heiress.
Courtney- That’s right. She’s ready upstairs if you can help her.
They make their way up the steps and to Heiress’ bed.
Holly- Finally! Bynum, can you help me?
Bynum- I have a song that might bring Roxanne here to talk to you. It’s the only way to clear things up.
Holly- If it’s the only option left . . ..
Bynum- What else is there to do at this point? (He starts beating a drum and singing.)
“Pure above; pure below.
Pure without; pure within.
Pure in eyes, ears, heart and tongue.
You whom I call”
Press down on the pedal
As you rush to me
“Over the long sands!”
Bynum continues drumming as the doorbell rings. Courtney opens it and it’s Roxanne.
Courtney- Is that really you?
Roxanne- What?
Courtney- How can I help you?
Roxanne- I have beef with your Heiress Hollyhock. I think that she keyed my car. There are also some other things that I need to get off my chest. It’s inevitable. You might as well let me in.
Courtney- Okay. She’s upstairs.
They go up to Heiress’ room. Holly stares at Roxanne in anticipation. Long pause.
Roxanne- I’ve been keeping this in Heiress. The clock is ticking and we need to have this conversation now.
Holly- Get on with it.
Roxanne- I know that just because you’re younger and you’re carrying his baby you think you have a right to Genji, but my vengeance on you will come. (Pause.)
I wish that this was a dream that I could wake up from and Genji and I wouldn’t love one other. It’s just difficult to think straight with this hate between us. That must be why I came here. I can’t think straight. “For a little while, I thought, I would take my pleasure;” and I drove here as fast as I could.
Bynum- (Bynum stops drumming.) Roxanne, don’t be alarmed. I called you here with my song so you could straighten things out with Heiress.
Roxanne- I didn’t get a call. Checking her phone.
Bynum- No. I mean I called you with Voodoo.
Roxanne- What? Oh my God. You can’t think I’m that naïve and vulnerable. You think this is like some devil’s call to a witch on the Sabbath?
But if you did do it, I’m sure it was to prompt my downfall.
(She covers her face.) Either way, I should be ashamed of myself for coming here. I’ve tried to come here before to confront you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. One night I made it here and sat in my car in your driveway “till dawn and watched the moon, till dawn and watched.” “How could I show myself?” Perhaps that night I convinced myself to drive here so that I might see Genji. My mind has been so scrambled.
This morning I did bite the bullet and ring the doorbell, for some reason.
Bynum- It was probably the song. She did make it to the door . . .
Roxanne- I probably came because I got sick of Genji not calling me. So sick I’m numb to the world. I had to do something.
(To Holly.) I used to have such a good life before you got pregnant and all hope for me ending up with Genji was lost. I even sat at feasts in the White House! On most mornings I would meet Genji somewhere else instead of coming here to talk to you like today. I used to do so many exciting things. I lived life to the fullest.
Now I can’t find my happiness without Genji. “I wither like the Morning Glory” as miss Hollyhock mopes in a better position. I hate you so much because you’re so restrained that it seems like you don’t even realize what you have.
You should be suffering. You probably did something bad in your past life to deserve this situation. As the Buddhist saying goes, “Our sorrows in this world aren’t caused by others; for even when others wrong us we are suffering the retribution of our own deeds in a previous existence.”
(She turns towards Holly’s bed; “passion again seizes her and she cries:”) I hate you so much! (“She creeps towards the bed.”)
Bynum- Roxanne, watch yourself! Think before you act.
Roxanne swiftly goes to Holly’s bed and knocks the breakfast trey off of the bed. Courtney senses trouble and runs to the edge of the balcony where there is a spotlight facing the sky. She turns the spotlight on. The light has a bat shape in it.
Bynum- “She is going to strike again. (To Roxanne.) You shall pay for this.”
Roxanne- “And this hate too is payment for past hate.”
Roxanne slaps Holy in the face. Holly leans over to the bucket next to her bed and throws up.
Holly- (Too sick to fight back.) What did I do!?
Roxanne- You took him away from me! (Roxanne spots something shining on the floor by her feet where the breakfast platter fell. She reaches down and grabs it. It is a sharp knife.) If I did something bad in my past life, then you must have too to deserve this. (She walks toward Holly with the knife).
Suddenly a tall dark figure appears at the top of the wall behind the bed. Courtney- Finally, Batman.
(The scene takes place in the courtyard of the Hollyhock House designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in Los Angeles. It can either be in the real courtyard or a remake. Around this whole courtyard is the house with a balcony. The audience sits in the courtyard space that is not the performance space. This performance space that represents Heiress Hollyhock’s home is a cement patio, a door upstage center and stage right, stairs that lead to a balcony, and a tall wall a few meters behind the bed. Just at the top of the stairs and stage right is Heiress Hollyhock’s bed. There is also a bucket next the bed and a spotlight at the edge of the balcony downstage right of the bed.)
Heiress Hollyhock lies on her bed as Courtney enters from stage left carrying a breakfast platter and goes up the stairs to Holly.
Courtney- Here’s some breakfast, Holly. Are you feeling better yet?
Courtney gives Holly her breakfast. Holly barely touches it throughout.
Holly- The morning sickness is even worse today. Also, I can’t stop thinking about Roxanne, and that’s just making my nausea worse.
The doorbell rings.
Courtney- That might be him.
Courtney goes downstairs and opens the center door. Enter Bynum.
Bynum- Good morning.
Courtney- You must be Bynum Walker. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Courtney, Heiress Hollyhock’s assistant. You must know that the she’s sick. We’ve sent her to her doctor, psychiatrist, acupuncturist, and masseuse, but none of them could cure her. Now she’s taken a more spiritual turn.
That’s why we need you here. We need your skills in the homeopathic magic of Voodoo.
Bynum- Right. Let’s see, if I can remember correctly, Heiress wants me to bind her to her husband Genji and see if Genji’s mistress, Roxanne has put any spells on the Heiress.
Courtney- That’s right. She’s ready upstairs if you can help her.
They make their way up the steps and to Heiress’ bed.
Holly- Finally! Bynum, can you help me?
Bynum- I have a song that might bring Roxanne here to talk to you. It’s the only way to clear things up.
Holly- If it’s the only option left . . ..
Bynum- What else is there to do at this point? (He starts beating a drum and singing.)
“Pure above; pure below.
Pure without; pure within.
Pure in eyes, ears, heart and tongue.
You whom I call”
Press down on the pedal
As you rush to me
“Over the long sands!”
Bynum continues drumming as the doorbell rings. Courtney opens it and it’s Roxanne.
Courtney- Is that really you?
Roxanne- What?
Courtney- How can I help you?
Roxanne- I have beef with your Heiress Hollyhock. I think that she keyed my car. There are also some other things that I need to get off my chest. It’s inevitable. You might as well let me in.
Courtney- Okay. She’s upstairs.
They go up to Heiress’ room. Holly stares at Roxanne in anticipation. Long pause.
Roxanne- I’ve been keeping this in Heiress. The clock is ticking and we need to have this conversation now.
Holly- Get on with it.
Roxanne- I know that just because you’re younger and you’re carrying his baby you think you have a right to Genji, but my vengeance on you will come. (Pause.)
I wish that this was a dream that I could wake up from and Genji and I wouldn’t love one other. It’s just difficult to think straight with this hate between us. That must be why I came here. I can’t think straight. “For a little while, I thought, I would take my pleasure;” and I drove here as fast as I could.
Bynum- (Bynum stops drumming.) Roxanne, don’t be alarmed. I called you here with my song so you could straighten things out with Heiress.
Roxanne- I didn’t get a call. Checking her phone.
Bynum- No. I mean I called you with Voodoo.
Roxanne- What? Oh my God. You can’t think I’m that naïve and vulnerable. You think this is like some devil’s call to a witch on the Sabbath?
But if you did do it, I’m sure it was to prompt my downfall.
(She covers her face.) Either way, I should be ashamed of myself for coming here. I’ve tried to come here before to confront you, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. One night I made it here and sat in my car in your driveway “till dawn and watched the moon, till dawn and watched.” “How could I show myself?” Perhaps that night I convinced myself to drive here so that I might see Genji. My mind has been so scrambled.
This morning I did bite the bullet and ring the doorbell, for some reason.
Bynum- It was probably the song. She did make it to the door . . .
Roxanne- I probably came because I got sick of Genji not calling me. So sick I’m numb to the world. I had to do something.
(To Holly.) I used to have such a good life before you got pregnant and all hope for me ending up with Genji was lost. I even sat at feasts in the White House! On most mornings I would meet Genji somewhere else instead of coming here to talk to you like today. I used to do so many exciting things. I lived life to the fullest.
Now I can’t find my happiness without Genji. “I wither like the Morning Glory” as miss Hollyhock mopes in a better position. I hate you so much because you’re so restrained that it seems like you don’t even realize what you have.
You should be suffering. You probably did something bad in your past life to deserve this situation. As the Buddhist saying goes, “Our sorrows in this world aren’t caused by others; for even when others wrong us we are suffering the retribution of our own deeds in a previous existence.”
(She turns towards Holly’s bed; “passion again seizes her and she cries:”) I hate you so much! (“She creeps towards the bed.”)
Bynum- Roxanne, watch yourself! Think before you act.
Roxanne swiftly goes to Holly’s bed and knocks the breakfast trey off of the bed. Courtney senses trouble and runs to the edge of the balcony where there is a spotlight facing the sky. She turns the spotlight on. The light has a bat shape in it.
Bynum- “She is going to strike again. (To Roxanne.) You shall pay for this.”
Roxanne- “And this hate too is payment for past hate.”
Roxanne slaps Holy in the face. Holly leans over to the bucket next to her bed and throws up.
Holly- (Too sick to fight back.) What did I do!?
Roxanne- You took him away from me! (Roxanne spots something shining on the floor by her feet where the breakfast platter fell. She reaches down and grabs it. It is a sharp knife.) If I did something bad in my past life, then you must have too to deserve this. (She walks toward Holly with the knife).
Suddenly a tall dark figure appears at the top of the wall behind the bed. Courtney- Finally, Batman.
Layal and Her Right to Stay
Heather Raffo’s 9 Parts of Desire is a challenging and thought provoking piece of theatre. In contrast to Katie (even though this is just an original blog and not a response to her Dec. 2nd blog – I did that as well…), I find the character of Layal to be the most moving and captivating. My perspective of how Iraqi women view American judgment is specifically affected by Layal. Throughout the play it seems as though Layal is fighting off judgment from Americans. Her perception of freedom and existence are much different from the western concepts held by those attacking her country... I was hurt by her assumptions that I would view her as a whore. She constantly defends herself with statements about the choices she makes.
LAYAL: Always I run to them, I come crying, begging, take care of me / they need me to do it, oh they love me to run to them crying – If I am not afraid then there is no feeling. Your eyes say to me that I am a whore / their eyes say I am the most beautiful woman in Baghdad / I am their fountain / I have been raped and raped and raped and raped / and I want more / they see me, they recognize me for what I am / that is freedom / they will never kill me –
In this passage she says that they “need” her to run crying and to be afraid. She says that without her fear there would be no “feeling.” I see Layal as a survivor and as someone who is fighting to protect the only way of existence she has known. She says she has been raped many times and wants more... I cannot understand how a woman can be at peace with being forced against her will sexually. I cannot understand how she could desire more of it and justify the action by stating it gives her freedom to be recognized for what she is… However, even though I do not understand, I do believe Layal has the right to exist this way if she so chooses. Her objective, she says, is not to die, which I’m interpreting from her final line in the above passage, “they will never kill me.” If her goal is to stay alive and remain in Iraq, then survival calls upon her to accept certain inevitabilities in life. For my part, I wish she would leave this lifestyle and pursue a new life somewhere else away from this oppression. But then again, that is for Layal and other Iraqi women like her to decide, not me… It is Layal’s strong commitment to stay in Iraq under her current circumstances that makes her the most powerful character in Heather Raffo’s 9 Parts of Desire.
LAYAL: Always I run to them, I come crying, begging, take care of me / they need me to do it, oh they love me to run to them crying – If I am not afraid then there is no feeling. Your eyes say to me that I am a whore / their eyes say I am the most beautiful woman in Baghdad / I am their fountain / I have been raped and raped and raped and raped / and I want more / they see me, they recognize me for what I am / that is freedom / they will never kill me –
In this passage she says that they “need” her to run crying and to be afraid. She says that without her fear there would be no “feeling.” I see Layal as a survivor and as someone who is fighting to protect the only way of existence she has known. She says she has been raped many times and wants more... I cannot understand how a woman can be at peace with being forced against her will sexually. I cannot understand how she could desire more of it and justify the action by stating it gives her freedom to be recognized for what she is… However, even though I do not understand, I do believe Layal has the right to exist this way if she so chooses. Her objective, she says, is not to die, which I’m interpreting from her final line in the above passage, “they will never kill me.” If her goal is to stay alive and remain in Iraq, then survival calls upon her to accept certain inevitabilities in life. For my part, I wish she would leave this lifestyle and pursue a new life somewhere else away from this oppression. But then again, that is for Layal and other Iraqi women like her to decide, not me… It is Layal’s strong commitment to stay in Iraq under her current circumstances that makes her the most powerful character in Heather Raffo’s 9 Parts of Desire.
What I Learned in Class
Although this might be silly, I have found I've learned something very interesting in this class. It has nothing to do with form or content, with beats or scansion, with dialogues or monologues or anything like that. But it comes down to respecting other people's opinions and being able to back up your own. I have been in classes similar to this, a discussion based class working with several scripts. I love these classes, especially when they get heated. However, I used to walk away from classes sometimes feeling upset at classmate's opinions. I have not done that with our class. At first I thought this must be because... well, everyone agrees. But that is not true. Not everyone had the same opinion. I thought maybe it's because no one had strong opinions, but this is not true either. Our class is full of strong opinions. I believe this class was successful based on the idea that we all have separate opinions that we could support. Because students were able to support opinions with text, form, content, whatever a specific play may entail, it was easier to respect these opinions without necessarily agreeing with them.
I think it has honestly taken me 17 years of schooling to finally figure this out.
Thank you for a great first semester, and thank you for teaching me something far beyond playscript interpretation.
A night of originals
After Listening to everyone's final projects and reading some of the posts, I propose would should get a "night of originals" up and going. Studio is a great option but I think there is so much red tape to jump through that it should almost be a part of the class. Granted this idea is coming at the end of the semester. Even a night of readings would be beneficial. What if it is a continuation or we can sign out the thrust and just do it ourselves. Having your peers listen in and give feed back is far more educational then strangers, although if we could pack the house with them all the better.
When i was at Northern Ill for a year we had readings for anyone who had written a play. This was done once a semester, just before/after finals. (depending on what theatre was available.) I don't see why we can't try the same thing.
I know personally for me, I want to at least hear mine read and possible staged. Mine is a bit more extravagant with props and all so a staged reading is ok with me. Gary's seems right up our alley and easily staged. Triza's is as well.
What does everyone think?
When i was at Northern Ill for a year we had readings for anyone who had written a play. This was done once a semester, just before/after finals. (depending on what theatre was available.) I don't see why we can't try the same thing.
I know personally for me, I want to at least hear mine read and possible staged. Mine is a bit more extravagant with props and all so a staged reading is ok with me. Gary's seems right up our alley and easily staged. Triza's is as well.
What does everyone think?
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