"Amante del amor"

18 of Shakespeare's sonnets, newly translated into Spanish. A black-box theater, five actors, two small tables, a chair, and a small proscenium-arch set piece. Quite lovely!

I had the privilege of attending an interview with the director, Helena Tritek. She talked about "using the images that the sonnets awakened for her" instead of sticking to "correct" interpretations of what the sonnets meant to Shakespeare. The result was beautiful. Seeing this performance made me reflect on "I burn, I pine, I perish," a Shakespeare-based project I directed last Spring at Vassar, and gave me some new thoughts as to working with good ol' Bill.* What impressed me most about this performance was the sense of play throughout. There was a tangible Commedia dell'arte influence, and the actors fully committed to the silliness and the sorrow alike.

*Bill. As in William. Get it? So as not to repeat myself within sentences. Heh.

"Estado de ira"

This show was one of my favorites so far, and definitely got my teatrista brain going. It took the play-within-a-play concept in a direction I'd never thought of: the entire play is a rehearsal for another play, Ibsen's "Hedda Gabbler." An accomplished actress arrives to play the title character, and the play charts her (humorous) emotional transformation from being extremely composed and sure of herself at the beginning to being on the verge of a nervous breakdown at the end. Literary parallels! Beautiful.

"Estado de ira" takes place in the 1950s in Argentina (needless to say, BEAUTIFUL costumes) but I recognized many of the characters and quirks of the rehearsal process from my own experiences. I would love to know more about their process in conceiving this production - in my eyes it was very much a play by actors for an audience of actors, although I'm sure non-theater-types could get a kick out of it, too. I wouldn't be at all surprised if they just started out with ideas for characters, the "Hedda Gabbler" script, and improvised from there. I would LOVE to be a part of something like that! IDEAS...

"Ala de Criados"

I saw this play a couple of weeks ago, I think I've been procrastinating writing about it because I LOVED IT in such a way that I don't really know what to say. It just really made me want to make some theater RIGHT NOW. I...I...I really can't form a coherent sentence about this. Acting! Absurdity! Truth! The "ugly-hot" aesthetic!!

After seeing the show, I got to attend an interview with the writer, who also directed the show. I took notes like a beast. Here are some things he said that stuck with me (sorry if the translations are awkward) :

1) The idea of the director as a creator of discourses that draw from the text, but don't necessarily exist innately within it. The actor, too, is a creator of discourses. In this sense, everyone involved in the creation of the work is a "playwright."

2) The contemporary notion of realizing a play is more than just placing a text in a space. The text has one meaning which is then joined with a multitude of others, creating something entirely new.

3) The casting process: looking for actors who manifest the characters in a way you hadn't imagined before (like looking at the sky and seeing a cloud transform into a dog, he said!)

4) You shouldn't commit to one existing technique, rather learn them all and use what works for you (he said he's read everything Stanislavki ever wrote and only ended up keeping about three pages for his personal use, but it was worth it for those three pages)

5) The ideal actor works in two "energies": TRUTH and POETRY. That is to say that the character belongs at once to the real world and to the autonomous world of the play.

Okay, that's enough pretention for now! More to come at some point, I'm sure ;)

"Yo amo a mi maestra normal"

I'm behind on reviews...but I'll keep these next ones short.

Two Thursdays back, IFSA advisors Daniel and Patricio took Robyn and I to see this one man show - or should I say one woman show? I'm not sure which is correct in this context. Juan Pablo Geretto, immaculately made up and sporting an amusing skirt-suit and heels, performed the entire piece solo. The character: an obnoxious, passive-aggressive, insufferable - and yet, somehow lovable - elementary school teacher.

About 80% of the audience was comprised of female schoolteachers who found the whole thing hysterical. In terms of reaching its target audience, SUCCESS. I liked it okay, but it mostly just made me want to see some more stand-up. I wonder if there's an Argentine equivalent to Margaret Cho...

"Fuerza Bruta"

I believe that my exact words after exiting this performance were, "What a great way to die!" Those of you who know me well at all know that I'm not a particularly morbid person. I just say "weird stuff" a lot, most of which comes from an honest place. The IFSA people I was with were a little creeped out, but I really meant it - the feeling I got from experiencing this performance is pretty close to what I would hope to feel in my final moments on Earth.

I'm not even going to attempt to describe what "Fuerza Bruta" is. You just have to see it. I purposefully picked a picture that doesn't nearly do it justice so as not to give it away.

Having been here for nearly two months (eek!) I can hardly consider myself enough of an expert on the city to say obnoxious things like "this is a must-see in Buenos Aires," but having been on this planet for nearly twenty-one years ("eek" for some of you reading this), I feel fairly qualified to say that seeing Fuerza Bruta is a very unique, powerful, entertaining experience, and you should go if you can! It didn't change my life or anything, but it made me feel pretty amazing, and it definitely made my creative mind spin with new ideas.

Check it out:

http://www.fuerzabruta.net/

"La Bella y La Bestia"

Last Saturday, Jamie and I went to see the Argentine version of Broadway’s “Beauty and the Beast.” It was FABULOUS. It’s been ages since I last saw the movie, but it used to be one of my favorites. The music is truly beautiful – I’d forgotten much of it, but hearing it again made me realize I how deep an impression music makes, especially when we're little. It's always amazing to feel so close to my four-year-old self, to realize that she's not gone :)

As for the production, I have little to say, I enjoyed it so. The actors were incredibly talented, and they looked like they were having so much fun. I wanted to be up there! So did a little girl sitting near us - she was dressed to the nines in polka-dots and pink converse and danced along to all of the upbeat numbers. A kindred spirit for sure.

Here’s the movie in Spanish, if you get the urge: http://il.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmz9v2K39jM

Conexión Creativa

Based on my blog content, one might assume that I actually live in a theater, with occasional trips to boliches and super swanky McDonald’s. But I actually spend a fair amount of my time in classrooms. You know, learning stuff and whatnot.

So I thought I’d do something new and spotlight one of my classes on el blog (I call this “el blog” when speaking in Spanish. With a Spanish "o". I take Spanglish very seriously).

I start my Mondays with Conexión Creativa (translation: – you guessed it – Creative Connection) at USal’s School of Dramatic Arts. I wasn’t originally enrolled in the class, but decided to give it a try during shopping period, and now it’s safe to say I’m in love.

I’ve been exposed to some pretty hippie-dippie stuff in my life. Progressive schools, organic food, folk music, etc. I know what WOOFing is and hope to give it a try some day. Gender-neutral bathrooms don’t faze me in the least. I went to Prometheus Camp in Finland where we skinny-dipped and made meditative sculptures that represented our personal idea of what “time” is, for Pete’s sake.

Hey, this is a fun list! I could keep going, but in the interest of your sanity, dear readers, I’ll stop and get to the point. Conexión Creativa is an extremely hippie-dippie, touchy-feely, find-your-spirit-animal-and-become-a-vegan kind of “class.” I say “class” entre comillas because it’s really more like having art therapy sessions once a week with a group of thirty of your peers. In fact, it is exactly that. And each time I go, the more convinced I am that every theater student – if not every artist/person ever – should have this as part of their training/life.

The professor is a small woman in her late 50s with a constant, genuine smile and a powerful, mellow voice. She says things like, “You are a flower with four petals. Beautiful energy emanates from your center, from the bellybutton.” (Except in Spanish, of course – I’m learning to speak hippie in Spanish, it’s nice!) She has a team of mostly silent, extremely chill people who come with her and make the magic happen. It's pretty ridiculous, but also wonderful.

I’m finding it hard to explain what happens in this class. We do a lot of different things. We chat. We listen to earthy music. We close our eyes. We move. We paint. We play like children. Last time we were each handed a lump of clay and were supposed to transfer our body heat to it, then march outside with it with our eyes half-closed to bask in the sun and sculpt.

I can imagine more than one person rolling their eyes at this. “This is your CLASS?” You ask with disbelief and mild to moderate distaste. “You’re getting CREDIT for this?”

I understand why you might feel that way, but I assure you, as pre-kindergarten as it may sound, Conexión Creativa is hard work. Somewhere between the tickling, the shouting, and the clay-pounding, this class really gets to people. It’s all about going deeper, accessing something we’re not allowed to access most of the time, discovering truths about yourself you had no idea existed. “Confronting the beast,” says the professor. So far, at least five or six people have cried each session – last week, I was the first! There’s nothing like tearing and snotting (that should be a word) in front of thirty people you hardly know. At the very least, now they know I'm human, and I think everyone speaks the universal language of unintelligible sobs equally well.

“Playa Bonita” (and a PC rant)

Last Sunday, I went to see the final performance of “Playa Bonita,” a comedia musical for kids. The cast included two first-year girls from USal who invited me to come see it.

I won’t lie: I enjoyed myself immensely, possibly even more than the two-to-six-year-olds that made up the rest of the audience. The cast had an unbelievable amount of energy and talent, and everything was colorful, exaggerated, and ridiculous.

There were a few scenes that made Alli and I, progressive New England liberal arts college students that we are, nudge each other and exchange horrified looks. Another page in my book “Political Correctness: Buenos Aires vs. Vassar.”

In a cast of ten, there was only one male actor, and there were entire songs (yes, more than one) about how all of the women lose their minds over him, turn on each other in pursuit of him, and need him to teach them to do things like swim and assemble lawn chairs. Not exactly what I would want my daughter – or son, for that matter – to see and learn from.

There was also a song and dance – an albeit entertaining, well-danced, well-sung number – about the Chinese Mafia, featuring Mulan-style warrior hats and phrases in fake Mandarin. Once again, SO NOT OKAY in the States. When I’ve attempted to breach the subject of racism here, I’ve heard the explanation that this country was built by Catholics (i.e. party people), while my country was built by Puritans (i.e. a bunch of squares). While I don’t advocate for rigid political correctness, I still think it’s wrong to encourage kids to do things like imitate r-less accents for fun (which happened in this show). I should also add that the Puritans were not exactly the most politically correct people ever to grace the Earth – the world would be quite different if they had been! And Thanksgiving would be a lot less ironic!

I could go on, but I’ll try to cut this tangent short for your sake, dear readers. For now, I’ll end with this quote, which I find appropriate:

“Well, call me a purist, but I don’t think cheese should be crunchy.”

(Bonus points to anyone who can identify the source!)

Besos,

Isa

P.S. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject of political correctness, political correctness abroad, etc. If your collegiate brains aren’t yet completely exhausted by the subject.

“Tempo”

To be perfectly honest:

NO

WHY

AGH

I saw this last Saturday and am still recovering. At least now I know what the inside of Hell looks like. And I’ll gladly share this image with you! Ready?

A pianist. A pendulum. Clowns. Clowns humping things. Clowns humping each other. Clowns humping the FLOOR, for Pete’s sake. Add a group of ten-year-old boys behind me, kicking my chair, making fart-noises, laughing hysterically. I think a small part of me died while watching this “play.”

I’ll say no more, there really isn’t much more I can bear to write on the subject. It was a painful two hours. No, this play was not a short one.

If I gained one thing from “Tempo,” it was a deepened understanding of the differences between the U.S. and Argentina when it comes to attitudes toward sex, sexuality, and censorship. Any North-American parent would have had their kid out of there after the first joke, but the Argentine families in the audience seemed fine with it. The performance was not my cup of tea, but I do find it disturbing that sexual images are censored more heavily in the U.S. than violent ones. Seeing this show confirmed in my mind just how different things could be.

But cultural understanding aside, NO. WHY. AGH.

"Kalvkött, carne de ternera"

I saw this play almost two weeks ago, so my memory of it is a little rusty, but I’ll write a little review nonetheless. In short, I liked the play, but pretty much hated the production.

The story takes place in Sweden and Argentina in the 1970s, exploring the relationship of a young Swedish man and a young Argentine woman who fall in love (presumably – that part is more or less implied) and proceed to get married and all that jazz. I was psyched to see a show about language barriers and cultural differences, and especially pleased that the show featured Scandanavia.

Given the script, the production could have been much better. The male lead was good, convincingly Swedish in both manner and accent. The young female lead, on the other hand, took every opportunity to diva it up, resulting in some comedic and disturbing moments that were supposed to just be, well, normal. To quote one of the Argentines I went with: “Even Isa could tell that actress sucked, and this isn’t her first language!”

This production also made use of “everyone’s fave new theatrical device” : projections. For the most part, these were tolerable, sometimes even interesting, but there was one scene in which María (played by the aforementioned diva extraordinaire) danced around ‘emotively’ while brightly colored patterns à la Kid Pix were projected onto the wall behind her. As my father would say, gross me out with a spoon.

"Fabulario"

Here goes the first of four play reviews I’ve been putting off!

“Fabulario” is an original piece put on by Gwen’s host sister’s theater group. It’s a collection of Aesop’s fables with a porteño twist – lots of lunfardo and humor. It was great language practice, because I was already familiar with the stories, so the new words stuck with me instead of just going over my head.

I honestly don’t have much to say! No witty complaints, because they did a great job. It made me want to be in a show. Seeing all these plays fills me with a sensation best described as unrequited love.

"La Vida es Sueño"

(we had balcony seats but I could still see that red crap around the guy's mouth)

Last night, I went with Rodrigo from fourth year to see a play. At first we weren’t sure which one to see, so after he delightfully observed (and insisted multiple times) that I was acting like Rainman (Rainman, Fez, what have you) we went in search. Well, he went in search, and I followed along, much like Rainman might have. A night at the theater with Rainman.

We ended up with “La Vida es Sueño” (Life’s a Dream) by Pedro Calderón de la Barca. It’s a very famous piece and I had read it previously in English (Sources of World Drama!!) so I had a foggy sense of the story.

Listening, I had the frustrating experience of understanding most of the individual words, but since the verse has a complicated rhyme scheme, the word order threw me off and I was pretty lost. I basically understood what was happening, and there were a few slow, solemn speeches that I grasped quite well, but most of the dialogue went over my head.

Understanding impeded, my other senses were heightened. In other words, I spaced out and thought about things other than the words. I thought about the set a lot. They had somehow managed to haul tons of sand onto the proscenium stage, which was arranged in a circle about a foot deep and thirty feet wide. This gave extra weight to the actors’ footsteps, and in the form of footprints the landscape of the set was changed by the actions of the characters (much like in a certain production of Titus Andronicus ahem ahem.) There was also a giant mirror that descended from above at various angles, which played with the light beautifully. At the end, the mirror was turned on the audience, which was a little predictable, but perhaps would have resonated more had I understood the text this gesture accompanied. All in all, it wasn’t my favorite set ever, but I think it evoked the half-dream, half-nightmare mood that the text is after.

I can’t say that I liked this play. It’s a classic, and this was an impressive production, but none of the characters really like each other. There is a lot of rape that is presented fairly lightheartedly. It definitely doesn’t pass the feminist test (having two female characters that talk to each other about something other than their relationships with men. Emberlie, is there a better term for this?) To conclude, it is hard to watch, but not in a way that makes you grow as a person or anything. What is left for contemporary audiences to appreciate is the language, and at this point, the language left me with a sense of mental exhaustion rather than a sense of enjoyment. Still, I’m glad I went. Does that make sense?

Stay tuned for more posts soon. I’ll try to do something other than see plays. Well, technically I do other things, but do you really want to hear about tea and boliches and grammatical improvements? (note that tea was the first thing on that list. It’s serious.) Well, I’ll just keep doing what floats my boat, and I’ll write about much of it.

Besos,

Isa

P.S. Come on, dear readers, this blogpost is choc-full of shout-outs. Don’t hide the fact that you’re devoted, in a near-religious manner, to my blog! Gimme some comments. I love you!

P.P.S. I should add, en fin, that Rodrigo liked the play. I think he was a little distracted at first by his worry that Rainman wasn’t getting it, but, much like Tom Cruise, got used to it after a while.

"Mariano Moreno"

This is the second play that Professor Dubatti, who teaches my seminar on theater today in Buenos Aires, sent us to see. He is quite a well-known guy, they even MENTIONED HIM IN THIS PLAY. Woah.

I found this play to be really quite fascinating. The full title of the piece is actually Mariano Moreno y un teatro de operaciones, i.e. Mariano Moreno and a theater of operations. It spends very little time talking about the actual historical figure and is best described as a witty, energetic commentary on the process of theater-making and connections with one’s history. A near-quote from the play: “When we conform to the same pre-determined, unchanged texts over and over, we become little more than beasts...” The play explores the connection between political freedom and artistic freedom, an essential idea in the development of contemporary Argentine drama. Well done, Dubatti!

I would love to see this play again at the end of my stay here (a.k.a. that magical time when I will understand everything. Fingers crossed!) The audience laughed a lot, and while I was entertained, I only got a couple of the jokes. Much of the humor had to do with the impressive speed at which the actors spoke, and therefore, much of it went over my head. Still, I was able to grasp a surprising amount of the text once I got into the rhythm of the play. Baby steps for the impatient baby.

The piece was highly stylized, which I loved. The makeup, costumes, props, and actors’ movements made the whole thing seem like a gothic puppet-show. The energy of the actors was unbelievable. The company is called “el bachín teatro” and I would love to see more of their work. And be best friends with them. Most plays make me want to act, but this was one play that gave me that unrequited love feeling, longing to be a part of it.

An extra note:

Those of you who knew her can understand why I’d say that Robin Wood, my high school drama teacher, would have particularly adored this piece. I wish so much that I could e-mail her about it and get back one of her enthusiastic, all-caps, ingenious replies. She taught me a lot, much of which I am just starting to learn now.

"El box" y después

Friday, August 13th

Finally! A play I can write something bad about! Praise the universe!

Basically, nothing happened in "El box." A man injected himself with clear liquid a few times while people with odd bodies walked around in odd little flesh-baring outfits. The actors punched each other and humped each other a fair amount, but also randomly quoted Marx and Proust to show that the play had “intellectual substance.” On top of it all, the lead actress shouted her way through the entire piece. At least it was only an hour long.

I’m still glad I got to go for two reasons.

Reason one, it was interesting to see the space. We entered through a marked but modest door into an entryway, which led into a house, behind which was a warehouse-type structure in which the performance took place. High, tin roof; concrete walls; minimal catwalk (that thing high above the stage where the techies walk around and hang lights from); and enough seats for about fifty people.

Reason two, I got to hang out with three students from the fourth-year class, whose rehearsals I watch every Thursday. We talked before the show started, I made some embarrassing language-errors, I tagged along with them after the show and we had a beer. (Apparently, I don’t hate beer. Apparently, I just hate PBR and Natty more than I hate beets and fennel [the latter are healthier than bad beer but equally as vile, as far as I’m concerned.]) The Argentines hated the show, too. They discussed just how much over the beer. They asked me to recite some Shakespeare for them. My mind was blank for a while, until I finally recalled a bit from Midsummer Night’s Dream. They dig iambic pentameter.

I continued to awkwardly tag along with them for a quite a long time afterward. We went to the apartment of one of the girls, and I found a kindred spirit music-wise and movie-wise, which I was ecstatic about. She is now in my phone as “Andrea Box,” so her name and number will forever be associated with that night and the putrid performance we saw together.

Afterward I met up with my Unitedstatesian chicas. Gwen described hanging out with Argentines as being “the Fez of the group.” I love this analogy, because it is both ridiculous and accurate. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you clearly haven’t seen as much silly 70s-themed television as I have and you should get on that post-haste.

Besos,

Isa

Word of the day: copado – adj. Cool (in the ‘groovy’ sense of the word)

"Tatuaje"

Last night I went to see Tatuaje at the Teatro Alvear.

It was certainly the gayest thing I’ve seen in a long time, and I really mean that in an extremely positive way. Like, male leads sporting turquoise eye-shadow and dangly earrings for the duration of the play, tango-ing with each other, and also dressing up as Marlene Dietrich from time to time. An unmistakably homosexual, thoroughly enjoyable work.

The cast was small; 3 men, 2 women, all extremely talented. The show told the true story of Miguel Molina, a flamboyantly gay Spanish performer who faced persecution under Franco's regime, and his friendship with Eva Perón, who granted him refuge in Argentina.

The costumes were incredible and stood out against a bare black set. Evita’s blonde wig was an avant-garde spectacle on its own, and at one point they dressed her as a mummy as she told the story of her death. My costumière-brain was going nuts.

There was a lot of humor in the play, and much of it went over my head – a lot of wordplay, innuendo, and historical/pop-cultural references. When I did get a joke, I laughed twice as loud, half for the simple joy of understanding.

While this was an entertaining piece, most of the dialogue was narration, which caused me to zone out from time to time. In contrast, Todos Eran Mis Hijos held my attention throughout because of the sense of constant movement and immediate action. At this point, I can understand most of what I hear, but only if I listen – my subconscious doesn’t quite speak Spanish yet.

Friday, I am going to see a show on the independent circuit, El box. The larger commercial theaters are impressive, but I can’t wait to have the independent theater experience – the shows often take place inside people’s homes, something I’ve never experienced before. I’m imagining the at-home performance in Finding Neverland...but I shall see soon enough what it’s really like! Stay tuned...or even better, come here and see some shows.

Besos,

Isa

Mi Horario

Shopping period is coming to a close, and I’ve just about finalized my schedule of classes. Here is my week (remember, all in Spanish):

lunes:

Conexión Creativa I (“creative connection,” first year)*

Voz y Canto III (voice and song, third year)

Escuela de Espectadores (lectures by playwrights and directors in the “spectators’ school”)

martes:

Castellano Matenamiento (Spanish language maintenance)**

Destreza y Malabares I (gymnastics and juggling, first year)

miércoles:

Taller de Actuación (acting workshop: just me, Robyn, and our teacher Marisa)

Seminar: Theater Today in Buenos Aires

jueves:

Observación (observation of rehearsals for the fourth year students’ play)

viernes:

LIBRE! (free)

So far, an excellent schedule. As part of the Central Seminar I’m required to see a different play each week (paid for by the program), and I can also sign up to see other shows that the program sponsors as extra-curricular events. In short, tons of theater. All the time. At no additional cost to me. WHAT?!

Please don’t hate me because I’m theatrical.

Besos,

Isa

*I have yet to attend this class, but I really want to take it after what I heard. Sounds like a super chilled-out Drama 102 (alas, only Vassar kids will get that reference)...like an exploration of creative expression.

**This class is required by my study abroad program. As part of the concentration, I will be enrolled in a section with a focus on – what? – theater.

"Todos Eran Mis Hijos"

Last night, I got my first true taste of Buenos Aires theater! IFSA paid for a group of students to go see Arthur Miller's "All My Sons" (in Spanish, of course!) at the Teatro Apolo. I LOVED IT!

I've read/seen some of Miller's other works, but I had no prior knowledge of this show. At first, I was overwhelmed by the rapid dialogue and had to really work to understand what was going on, but as the play progressed I was able to follow it quite easily. I realize that seeing plays (which I will be doing a lot!) will be a great tool for learning language - and it's something I love to do in the first place!

The entire cast was very talented, but I especially enjoyed the actors who played Kate and Joe, the parents. I love to see people on stage who have been acting for decades - they possess an ease and grace that the younger actors are still developing. Chris and Annie were also great, though, and their romance was rather convincingly steamy.

I'll try to include little reviews of the shows I see, although I imagine I'll continue being too ecstatic about understanding what I see to write anything critical. Every time I feel my language skills progressing, I want to express to someone the wonders that are happening inside my brain - I suppose just about everyone feels like this when they start to really learn a language, but I didn't expect it to be such an emotional experience! Very exciting.

Besos,

Isa

Word of the day: "re" - adv. Very. (added as a prefix for emphasis. Ex: re-linda, re-terrible, re-dificil)

"Galopad aprisa..."

Believe it or not, I am here to do more than go to boliches and hang out with cats! This is the first week of classes, and so far it has been AMAZING.

I am participating in IFSA’s new theater concentration, which means that my schedule of classes is designed to give me an in-depth look at theater in Buenos Aires, and to help me continue my studies in acting and directing. I’ll be taking two classes at the School of Dramatic Arts at Universidad del Salvador, a small private university in the city; observing an USal class; attending a seminar; and participating in a workshop where I can put what I’m learning into practice. In addition, I’ll have Spanish class once a week at IFSA. A full program! There is only one other student, doing the concentration with me, which is actually ideal because it means I won’t be alone but I also won’t have tons of Americans in my classes, thus making it easier to get to know my Argentine classmates. Robyn is the other IFSA student, she’ll probably come up quite a bit in posts about classes as we venture forth together into the sea of Argentine drama kids.

Sitting outside of the School of Dramatic Arts, I could tell I was in the right place for me. Crowds of students with loud voices and colorful clothes stood around talking and laughing together, waiting for classes to begin. My people!

My first class was Voz y Canto (voice and song) with the third-year students (mostly 20- and 21-year-olds). Right away, I was taken aback by the tiny class size (I counted ten students) and the laid-back environment – lots of joking and chatting throughout class. When the professor explained what they would be working on this term, right away the students protested and suggested different options. The Vassar theater department is quite friendly, but this level of openness definitely gave me a culture shock.

I took my first theatrical risk of the semester by taking a turn at reading a monologue in front of the class. It was from Romeo and Juliet, so I knew the scene, but it was of course in Spanish – ye olde Spanish. Quite difficult! I stumbled quite a bit but the class applauded my efforts. I need to memorize it for next week! I am excited to see how I improve week to week over the course of the semester.

The people in the class were really nice. I ended up talking with a couple of the girls afterward, and they said that if I had any questions about drama stuff in the area I should feel free to ask them.

Yesterday, I attended Destreza y Malabares, which is a class on gymnastics and juggling for actors! It is taught at the oldest circus school in the country (the second oldest in all of the Americas) by a man whose family has been in the circus business since the 1800s. Wow! The students in this class are also from USal, and they have been in the class since March, thus being able to do all sorts of crazy circus stunts. It was quite a shock walking in and seeing them hula-hooping, juggling balls and rings, and doing flips in a seemingly anarchical manner. Once again, a very informal environment! I wasn’t wearing proper clothing, so Robyn and I just practiced juggling two balls for a while before she went off to learn other tricks and I was adopted into conversation by a group of students. I think I surprised them with both my relatively good Spanish and my lack of knowledge about NYC. They gave me some tips as to what boliches to go to (once again: NOT SAHARA!). They seem like a really fun group of people, I hope to get to know them better in the weeks to come.

This afternoon, I will attend my first academic class, about contemporary theater in Buenos Aires. The professor is supposed to be extremely good and knowledgeable. I’m excited! Going with the same theme, I’m going to see a professional production of All My Sons tonight, but in Spanish (Todos Eran Mis Hijos – “They All Were My Sons” - huh), sponsored by IFSA. It’ll be the first play I see here. I’ll write a review tomorrow!

Next week, I’ll take my camera to class with me. I didn’t want to be that freak exchange student taking pictures of chairs and stuff, but now they know me, so I think it’ll be okay.

Thanks for reading! Keep those comments coming, I miss you all more than you know.

Besos,

Isabella

Word of the day: el quilombo - n. A chaotic mess.