Walking home from rehearsal today, I saw a man carrying a slaughtered pig over his shoulder (sans head- the pig, not him.) It wasn't bloody or anything, but it was definitely raw. Made me almost wish I had my camera- something about how casually he was carrying it. My friend Paige goes, "Well, that's going in the diary." I think she was kidding, but i decided to write about it here anyways.
Couldn't sleep last night. Just lay there, trying to figure out what was going on in my head that was keeping me up. Finally got up around six when the sun was coming through my window at me, and decided to go for a run, since sometimes when I do that I stop thinking. I did, but I still have no idea what was stressing me out so much.
I end with a funny little story: Here I am, on my side of the pond, trying to grasp all new and unfamiliar things to me. So when stuff starts coming up for Mother's Day, like an obedient child, I make my mom a card, and post-haste it to her, without questioning. Now, you Americans who are on top of things, (or are mothers yourselves...) might be thinking "wait a minute, Mother's Day is in May...." Or maybe, you're just going, "Crap, I missed it!" Well, as my mom pointed out for me in her thank you email, "you wrote that you were sad to have missed it, but you didn't. Mother's Day isn't until the middle of May." Turns out this is something else the UK does different. Mother's Day, or Mothering Day, as it's called here, is on the 22nd of March, somehow fitting in with Lent, though I'm not clear why. Now you know.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Being at BADA
As today was a particularly slow day— though it did hail— I thought I’d dedicate this post to a comparison of what it’s like being at a theater conservatory, acting 24/7 versus being at Mac. “Being at BADA”-isms, if you will. I’ll probably revisit this, but for now, here goes:
1) Don’t be late. No joke. Back home, I used to fall prey to the “Macalester Gray Area:” show up in the first five minutes of class and your good to go. (Not every teacher follows this, to be sure. Hell- if you’re Marlon, that means you’re early!) But at BADA, if you’re on time, you’re late.
2) Focus. There’s a lot more of it happening here. Back home, there was always a to-do list in The Notebook. Write a paper, go to work, read these by next class. Here, it’s more straightforward: show up, have your lines memorized. That isn’t to say it’s easy, there’s a lot that goes into each class, but somehow it doesn’t seem as all over the place.
3) Sharing means caring. Food, clothes, gossip, it all seems to get passed around. (Which helps so much when people get sick…) And as for emotional drama, well there are only 31 of us. Between Hig-land and Mac, I’m used to it being a small world, but here it’s even more so. I know who fought with their boyfriend, who just had sex with their boyfriend, who’s on their period, who’s missed it, who got drunk last night, and who burned dinner last night.
4) Personal Space: to put it bluntly, I’ve seen everyone here in their underwear. Changing at your locker is a usual occurrence, though not everyone does it. It does get tricky if David, Noel, Angeline, or I try changing at the same time, though. At Mac, the most physical contact I get is in the lunchroom at rush hour, waiting for tatter tots or curly fries. Here, you’re jumping on people’s backs, rolling around on the floor with them, smacking butts, kissing, or getting kicked by them. My only regret is I’ve missed most of the backrub swapping.
5) At Mac, there’s this thing where we’re all different, but we’re all the same. By which I mean we all have different lives, but we’re all students. BADA makes you very aware of your physical persona. Like, I know that I am the shortest in the program, have the fifth darkest eyes in my play (and interestingly enough I’m the darkest eyed of the white kids– the four in front of me are all African American). I’m aware of how I walk, that I jiggle my knees a lot, and have crappy posture sitting in a chair.
6) Copying is encouraged. Okay, not really, but in the past two months I have copied how classmates walked, talked, even breathed. It’s actually really interesting, and very insightful into both of your personalities.
7) Memorization and rehearsal. At Mac, it’s pretty obvious when you’ve walked in on a study group or a ‘study group”. At BADA, you’re never quite sure. Empty rooms are always in high demand, and people switch from conversation to recitation of lines at the drop of a hat.
So that’s a good beginning. I’ll add more as I discover them. Is there anything you’re curious about?
1) Don’t be late. No joke. Back home, I used to fall prey to the “Macalester Gray Area:” show up in the first five minutes of class and your good to go. (Not every teacher follows this, to be sure. Hell- if you’re Marlon, that means you’re early!) But at BADA, if you’re on time, you’re late.
2) Focus. There’s a lot more of it happening here. Back home, there was always a to-do list in The Notebook. Write a paper, go to work, read these by next class. Here, it’s more straightforward: show up, have your lines memorized. That isn’t to say it’s easy, there’s a lot that goes into each class, but somehow it doesn’t seem as all over the place.
3) Sharing means caring. Food, clothes, gossip, it all seems to get passed around. (Which helps so much when people get sick…) And as for emotional drama, well there are only 31 of us. Between Hig-land and Mac, I’m used to it being a small world, but here it’s even more so. I know who fought with their boyfriend, who just had sex with their boyfriend, who’s on their period, who’s missed it, who got drunk last night, and who burned dinner last night.
4) Personal Space: to put it bluntly, I’ve seen everyone here in their underwear. Changing at your locker is a usual occurrence, though not everyone does it. It does get tricky if David, Noel, Angeline, or I try changing at the same time, though. At Mac, the most physical contact I get is in the lunchroom at rush hour, waiting for tatter tots or curly fries. Here, you’re jumping on people’s backs, rolling around on the floor with them, smacking butts, kissing, or getting kicked by them. My only regret is I’ve missed most of the backrub swapping.
5) At Mac, there’s this thing where we’re all different, but we’re all the same. By which I mean we all have different lives, but we’re all students. BADA makes you very aware of your physical persona. Like, I know that I am the shortest in the program, have the fifth darkest eyes in my play (and interestingly enough I’m the darkest eyed of the white kids– the four in front of me are all African American). I’m aware of how I walk, that I jiggle my knees a lot, and have crappy posture sitting in a chair.
6) Copying is encouraged. Okay, not really, but in the past two months I have copied how classmates walked, talked, even breathed. It’s actually really interesting, and very insightful into both of your personalities.
7) Memorization and rehearsal. At Mac, it’s pretty obvious when you’ve walked in on a study group or a ‘study group”. At BADA, you’re never quite sure. Empty rooms are always in high demand, and people switch from conversation to recitation of lines at the drop of a hat.
So that’s a good beginning. I’ll add more as I discover them. Is there anything you’re curious about?
Friday, March 27, 2009
Birthday Friday
Although I overslept today and had to get ready for class in fifteen minutes, I had a fairly good Friday.
Jessica our wonderful, wonderful voice teacher made a visit to rehearsal today, to work with the mechanicals on finding male voices. I suppose I should take a moment, and fill you in: I got Peter Quince in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream for our final production. I'm pretty happy with the part; it's a comedic role, and he's the director of the play within a play, which is cool. Anyways, I spent the morning emasculine-ing my walk and voice. We talked about how generally men are more direct and economical in their words and actions. Whereas women's speech generally flies up and takes a somewhat curvy path, a man is very direct in how he speaks, there's an assumed authority. It's pretty interesting. I apparently was one of the best at being a man. When I friend complimented me, I took out my "manly enough" card as a response; she was pretty amused. I have also taken to observing men on my way to school (not to be confused with boywatching, this gets done too, but never while I'm working... my friend David and I have devised our own version of me first. :P). I also got to have a little one-on-one chat with the director, which was much needed, and I feel better now.
This afternoon was pretty chill, though I did go running (don't say anything- you'll jinx it), and worked out for an hour. Didn't work on my paper as planned, though I emailed the teacher, which I think should count for something.
But tonight was great. In celebration of two of my friends at BADA's birthday, we went to this Mexican restaurant, Mestizo. Let me explain something: England does not really believe in Mexican food. Halal meat stands and Subways (with Halal meat) pretty much have replaced Taco Bell and Chipotle here. So basically, I had the most amazing chicken enchilada I have had in a long time. And a mojito. I even spoke Spanish to the waiters... The evening was dampened slightly by one of the BADA boys getting very drunk and having a couple of breakdowns, until he had to be taken home because he was walking around the restaurant in his socks and lifting up the furniture. But we hailed him a taxi and all was well. Then we went to a club called Cargo and danced to a group called "Pack Rat." Minus being trampled at the coat check, it was a nice place. The night bus home (tubes stop running by midnight) was the perfect quiet windown to a busy busy day. And now I am here, writing to you...
Jessica our wonderful, wonderful voice teacher made a visit to rehearsal today, to work with the mechanicals on finding male voices. I suppose I should take a moment, and fill you in: I got Peter Quince in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream for our final production. I'm pretty happy with the part; it's a comedic role, and he's the director of the play within a play, which is cool. Anyways, I spent the morning emasculine-ing my walk and voice. We talked about how generally men are more direct and economical in their words and actions. Whereas women's speech generally flies up and takes a somewhat curvy path, a man is very direct in how he speaks, there's an assumed authority. It's pretty interesting. I apparently was one of the best at being a man. When I friend complimented me, I took out my "manly enough" card as a response; she was pretty amused. I have also taken to observing men on my way to school (not to be confused with boywatching, this gets done too, but never while I'm working... my friend David and I have devised our own version of me first. :P). I also got to have a little one-on-one chat with the director, which was much needed, and I feel better now.
This afternoon was pretty chill, though I did go running (don't say anything- you'll jinx it), and worked out for an hour. Didn't work on my paper as planned, though I emailed the teacher, which I think should count for something.
But tonight was great. In celebration of two of my friends at BADA's birthday, we went to this Mexican restaurant, Mestizo. Let me explain something: England does not really believe in Mexican food. Halal meat stands and Subways (with Halal meat) pretty much have replaced Taco Bell and Chipotle here. So basically, I had the most amazing chicken enchilada I have had in a long time. And a mojito. I even spoke Spanish to the waiters... The evening was dampened slightly by one of the BADA boys getting very drunk and having a couple of breakdowns, until he had to be taken home because he was walking around the restaurant in his socks and lifting up the furniture. But we hailed him a taxi and all was well. Then we went to a club called Cargo and danced to a group called "Pack Rat." Minus being trampled at the coat check, it was a nice place. The night bus home (tubes stop running by midnight) was the perfect quiet windown to a busy busy day. And now I am here, writing to you...
Thursday, March 26, 2009
tongue talk
Something I forgot to post before:
I was waiting in the lobby of my building for a friend so we could go to quiz night at the local pub, (it's a British thing- they're really big on it here...), and there was a man, woman, and three little kids sitting on the sofa there, too. When the kids, who are probably around three and four) see me, they instantly call out, "Hello! How are you? Goodbye!" The woman (their aunt) explains to me they're from Kuwait, and this is pretty much the only English they know. (She also says with a smile they are "trouble.") The kids proceed to greet every other person who comes in or out of the building with at least one of the phrases, in no particular order. (Goodbye! How are you!) One of the little girls has also picked up her own version of "twinkle, twinkle" composed almost completely of that one word.
The man invites me to sit on the sofa with them, and he begins saying words in Arabic to the kids to practice in English, like car, or dog. He them repeats them so I can learn them in Arabic. (He said I was really good at it, but of course they're all gone now.)
I realize this must have been how I seemed to the Czech, with my proud little "Prozims" and "Dekujis", or in France, when we were teaching David to count to ten on the train. It's both amusing and a little mortifying. But that's how you learn, I suppose.
I was waiting in the lobby of my building for a friend so we could go to quiz night at the local pub, (it's a British thing- they're really big on it here...), and there was a man, woman, and three little kids sitting on the sofa there, too. When the kids, who are probably around three and four) see me, they instantly call out, "Hello! How are you? Goodbye!" The woman (their aunt) explains to me they're from Kuwait, and this is pretty much the only English they know. (She also says with a smile they are "trouble.") The kids proceed to greet every other person who comes in or out of the building with at least one of the phrases, in no particular order. (Goodbye! How are you!) One of the little girls has also picked up her own version of "twinkle, twinkle" composed almost completely of that one word.
The man invites me to sit on the sofa with them, and he begins saying words in Arabic to the kids to practice in English, like car, or dog. He them repeats them so I can learn them in Arabic. (He said I was really good at it, but of course they're all gone now.)
I realize this must have been how I seemed to the Czech, with my proud little "Prozims" and "Dekujis", or in France, when we were teaching David to count to ten on the train. It's both amusing and a little mortifying. But that's how you learn, I suppose.
J.J. is Amazing
Just came from watching the season finale of Skins- the British equivalent to Degrassi, only debatably more nudity and alcohol. Anyways, a group of us have gotten hooked on it, and while watching today, this commercial came up that even though I've seen before depresses the hell out of me.
Scene opens on a man brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Camera shot over his shoulder shows him turn and see something. Focusing in, we see it's small child, bent up in a funny way. This child appears while he's at work, in the kitchen, and his desk at home, and even when he turns over in bed that night. You're just about to wonder if this is a sequel to "The Sixth Sense" when words come up across the scene: "Control your speed or live with the consequences. Drive 30."
This commercial would probably never fly in the US, (which I'm not entirely unhappy about). It's funny then that they are just now beginning to consider airing condom commercials on main channels, due to a push by the sex education foundation. They are also considering running commercials on abortions to combat the increase in teen moms. I'm curious what effect it will have. Actually, just in general, the commercials are different, here. Sometimes they're funnier, or cheesier, and others they're more bizarre, more abstract, leaving you wondering how they made it off the drawing boards. I wish I could conclude with some deep realization about British vs. American culture via these commercials, but I'm not there yet.
Scene opens on a man brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Camera shot over his shoulder shows him turn and see something. Focusing in, we see it's small child, bent up in a funny way. This child appears while he's at work, in the kitchen, and his desk at home, and even when he turns over in bed that night. You're just about to wonder if this is a sequel to "The Sixth Sense" when words come up across the scene: "Control your speed or live with the consequences. Drive 30."
This commercial would probably never fly in the US, (which I'm not entirely unhappy about). It's funny then that they are just now beginning to consider airing condom commercials on main channels, due to a push by the sex education foundation. They are also considering running commercials on abortions to combat the increase in teen moms. I'm curious what effect it will have. Actually, just in general, the commercials are different, here. Sometimes they're funnier, or cheesier, and others they're more bizarre, more abstract, leaving you wondering how they made it off the drawing boards. I wish I could conclude with some deep realization about British vs. American culture via these commercials, but I'm not there yet.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Pasta and Politics
To those who responded to my domestic dilemma post, thank you. The outcome of my cooking experience was: pasta with chicken in alfredo/pesto sauce. That's right, I am an amazing chef. David and I were quite pleased. Only it was made much more complicated by the lack on dishes in my flat (why, you may ask? because thanks to flatmates everything in our kitchen is in the sink- no joke.), also the pot I put the pasta in was smaller than it should have been.
I remembered something I meant to talk about a few days ago:
Sunday night, a friend of mine was performing in a comedy group in a hotel on the West End, (London's Broadway), so we trouped out to see it. Because he gave us the wrong time, we ended up being "the Americans who were late." The Emcee had a teased us mercilessly all night. "We're gonna talk about vegetables now, for you Americans, that's the thing in your hamburger when you take out the meat and the bread..." and so forth.
Then World War II comes up. Someone calls out, "You Americans, always late for your wars!" And my friend Ian banters back, "Well, we saved your asses." ... There is a slight pause in the conversation, long enough though that I take that moment flight attendants refer to for checking for the nearest exit. Then an old man in back pipes up, "Yes, but now you're the first ones to start them, and you're always fucking them up." True enough. We all laugh, and the show goes on. Still, it's always interesting discussing politics.
I remembered something I meant to talk about a few days ago:
Sunday night, a friend of mine was performing in a comedy group in a hotel on the West End, (London's Broadway), so we trouped out to see it. Because he gave us the wrong time, we ended up being "the Americans who were late." The Emcee had a teased us mercilessly all night. "We're gonna talk about vegetables now, for you Americans, that's the thing in your hamburger when you take out the meat and the bread..." and so forth.
Then World War II comes up. Someone calls out, "You Americans, always late for your wars!" And my friend Ian banters back, "Well, we saved your asses." ... There is a slight pause in the conversation, long enough though that I take that moment flight attendants refer to for checking for the nearest exit. Then an old man in back pipes up, "Yes, but now you're the first ones to start them, and you're always fucking them up." True enough. We all laugh, and the show goes on. Still, it's always interesting discussing politics.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Three Little Stories
Looking at myself in the mirror this evening, as I am wont to do (wont is our word of the week, heavy British pronunciation), I realized my shirt was on backwards. This means I have worn my shirt backwards all day and never realized it. huh.
Also, our stove top was being weird, I put water on and went to the bathroom, when I came out it smelled like gas, so I went to investigate. The flame had somehow blown out (just one burner, not the other...), while it continued to merrily pump in gas. My roommate has decided this is a ruse for me to kill her. I figure, there are worse people to go down with.
While stealing internets at McDonalds (the combination of a looming paper and the Cadbury creme McFlurry are just too good to pass up), I put my feet up on the chair across from me at the little two person table. Later, I was asked to remove my feet, as they might offend someone. I understand what they meant, I just found it amusing. Also, we have a rosary group that meets there regularly; a group of twelve or so old men who sit there chatting as they work through their beaded rosaries. I amused by this as well.
Also, our stove top was being weird, I put water on and went to the bathroom, when I came out it smelled like gas, so I went to investigate. The flame had somehow blown out (just one burner, not the other...), while it continued to merrily pump in gas. My roommate has decided this is a ruse for me to kill her. I figure, there are worse people to go down with.
While stealing internets at McDonalds (the combination of a looming paper and the Cadbury creme McFlurry are just too good to pass up), I put my feet up on the chair across from me at the little two person table. Later, I was asked to remove my feet, as they might offend someone. I understand what they meant, I just found it amusing. Also, we have a rosary group that meets there regularly; a group of twelve or so old men who sit there chatting as they work through their beaded rosaries. I amused by this as well.
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