mercoledì 9 novembre 2011

Here we are.






HERE WE ARE.
THEATRE INDEPENDENT PROJECT
ORIGINAL PIECE WRITTEN BY AUGUSTA ITUA
*SCENE ONE AND THREE: ADAPTED FROM THE PLAY
“A TASTE OF HONEY” BY SHELAGH DELANEY.




SCENE ONE
The stage represents a comfortless flat in Southport. Helen, a semi-whore, enters in the scene followed by her daughter, JO. They are loaded with a baggage.

HELEN: AMANDA
JOSEPHINE, HER DAUGHTER: SAMANTHA

Music:  A Taste of Honey by Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass.
Fade in. – 1:10 fade out, 1:20 stop.
Light cue:

HELEN: Well! This is the place.
JO: And I don't like it.
HELEN: When I find somewhere for us to live I have to consider something far more important than your feelings . . . the rent. It's all I can afford.
JO: Even you can afford something better than this old ruin..
HELEN: When you start earning you can start moaning.
JO: Can't be soon enough for me. I'm cold and my shoes let water . . . what a place . . . and we're supposed to be living off her immoral earnings.     
HELEN: What's wrong with this place? What more do you want? Anyway it'll do for us. Pass me the glasses, Jo.
JO: Where are they?
HELEN: I don't know.
Jo: You packed 'em.
HELEN: Here they are. I put 'em in my bag for safety. Pass me that bottle.
JO: Why should I run round after you? [Jo takes the whisky bottle from a bag.]
HELEN: Children owe their parents these little attentions.
JO: I don't owe you a thing.
HELEN: Except respect, and I don't seem to get any of that.
JO: Drink, drink, drink, that's all you're fit for. You make me sick.
Are we sharing a bed again?
HELEN: Of course, you know I can't bear to be parted from you.
JO: What I wouldn't give for a room of my own! | God! | It's freezing!
HELEN: Don't stand there shivering. Have some of this if you're so cold. 
JO: You know I don't like it.
HELEN: Have you tried it?
JO: No.
HELEN: Then get it down you!
JO: I don't like the smell of it.
HELEN: You don't smell it, you drink it! It consoles you.
JO: What do you need consoling about?
HELEN: Life! Come on; give it to me if you've done with it. I'll soon put it in a safe place. [Helen drinks.]
JO: You're knocking it back worse than ever.
HELEN: Oh! Well, it's one way of passing time while I'm waiting for something to turn up. And it usually does if I drink hard enough.
JO: Isn't that light awful? I do hate to see an unshaded electric light bulb dangling from the ceiling like that.
HELEN: Well, don't look at it then.
JO: The roof's leaking! Was it raining when you took the place?
HELEN: It is a bit of mess, isn't it?
JO: You always have to rush off into things. You never think.
HELEN: Oh well, we can always find something else.
JO: But what are you looking for? Every place we find is the same.
HELEN: Can't we have a bit of peace for five minutes? | I feel rotten. | I've no business being out of bed.
JO: Who lives here besides us, Helen? Any young people?
HELEN: Eh? Oh! Yes, I did see a lad hanging around here when I called last week. Handsome, long-legged creature - just the way I like 'em. Perhaps he's one of the fixtures. He'd just do for you, JO. You've never had a boyfriend, have you?
JO: No. I used to like one of your fancy men though.
HELEN: Oh! Which one?
JO: I thought I was in love with him.
HELEN: Which one does she mean?
JO: I thought he was the only man I'd ever love in my life and then he ran off with that landlady's daughter.
HELEN: Oh! Him!
Jo: And I cried myself to sleep for weeks.
HELEN: She was a silly cat. You should have seen her. Honest to God! I'll have to tell you about her too sometimes.
JO: I saw him again one day, on the street.
HELEN: Did you?
JO: I couldn't believe my eyes. He was thin, weak-chinned with a funny turned-up nose.
HELEN: It wasn't his nose I was interested in.
JO: I'm going to unpack my bulbs. I wonder where I can put them. They're supposed to be left in a cool, dark place.
HELEN: That's where we all end up sooner or later. Still, it's no use worrying, is it?
JO: I hope they bloom.
HELEN: Where did you get those bulbs?
JO: The Park. The gardener had just planted about two hundred. I didn't think he'd miss half a dozen.
HELEN: That's the way to do things. If you see something you want, take it. That's my daughter for you. If you spent half as much time on me as you do on them fiddling bits of greenery I'd be damn sight better off.
. . . You're going to have a shocking journey to school each day, aren't you? It must be miles and miles.
JO: Not for much longer.
HELEN: Why, are you still set on leaving school at Christmas?
JO: Of course.
HELEN: What are you going to do?
JO: Get out of your sight as soon as I can get a bit of money in my pocket.
HELEN: Very wise too. But how are you going to get your money in the first place? After all you're not very fond of work, are you?
JO: No. I take after you.
HELEN: You can't sing, can you? Anyway, it's your life, ruin it your own way. It's a waste of time interfering with other people, don't you think so? It takes me all my time to look after myself, I know that.
JO: That's what you said, but really you think you could make a better job of it, don't you?
HELEN: What?
JO: Ruining my life. After all, you've had plenty of practice.
HELEN: Yes, give praise where praise is due, I always say. I certainly supervised my own downfall.
JO: Anyway I'm not getting married like you did.
HELEN: Oh!
JO: I'm too young and beautiful for that.
HELEN: Listen to it! Still, we all have funny ideas at that age, don't we - makes no difference though, we all end up same way sooner or later. | I was thinking of washing my hair tonight, but I don't think it's wise to . . . Christ! What the hell's she got in here . . . what's this? [Helen sees Jo’s drawings.] Hey, Jo, Jo, what's this?
JO: What's what?
HELEN: Did you do this?
JO: Put it down.
HELEN: I thought you said you weren't good at anything.
JO: It's only a drawing.
HELEN: It's very good. Did you show them this at school?
JO: I'm never at one school long enough to show them anything.
HELEN: That's my fault, I suppose.
JO: You will wander about the county.
HELEN: It's the gipsy in me. I didn't realize I had such a talented daughter. Look at that. It's good, isn't it?
JO: I'm not just talented, I'm geniused.
HELEN: I think I'll hang this on the wall somewhere.
HELEN: Have you ever thought of going to a proper art school and getting a proper training?
JO: It's too late.
HELEN: I'll pay. You're not stupid. You'll soon learn.
JO: I've had enough of school; too many different schools and too many different places.
HELEN: You're wasting yourself.
JO: So long as I don't waste anybody else. Why are you so suddenly interested in me, anyway?  You've never cared much before about what I was doing or what I was trying to do or the difference between them.
HELEN: I know: I'm a cruel, wicked woman.
JO: Why did we have to come here anyway? We were all right at the other place. Don't you think I get fed up with all this flitting about?
HELEN: Don't worry, you'll soon be an independent working woman and free to go where you please.
JO: The sooner the better. I'm sick of you. You've made my life a misery.
HELEN: Oh! Get out of my sight.
Light cue:
 . . . I'm going to bed.

End of scene one. (This scene is directly connected to the next scene.)


SCENE TWO

EDWARD is sitting in the living room and eating some fruits, while reading “The Guardian”.

EDWARD: BENJAMIN
MICHAEL: NIKLAS

Music:  A Taste of Honey by Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass.
Fade in. – 1:10 fade out, 1:18 stop.
Light cue: Fade in: 15 seconds (goes with the music)

EDWARD: I can’t believe Scott is not here yet. I have been waiting for him all day, because I really need to speak with him. 
MICHAEL: Hello . . . is there anybody in? Dad? . . . Oh! Here you are! How is it going?
EDWARD: Oh Scott, I really have something important to tell you. I mean . . . [he can’t remember] how was your day?
MICHAEL: Well, there isn’t really that much to say. Routine! I was at the farm, when this young lady came and asked for some free fresh milk. Of course I said no to her, but she wouldn’t leave. The whole situation became really embarrassing until. . . .
EDWARD: [Interrupting and changing tone and topic] Always the same things. I wasted a penny even this time. This is rubbish. It is unacceptable that The Guardian publics so many nonsense articles.
MICHAEL: But, don’t bother yourself too much.
EDWARD: [more aggressive] Young man, you don’t even know what your talking about. I have been reading this newspaper for the past ten years. I will tell you, once everything was different in this country.
. . . Every Sunday the same thing; we are building our country, we have to unify and give our best. What does this mean?
MICHAEL: I’ll make some tea.
EDWARD: Anyway, how was your day?
MICHAEL: I told you already, it was good. What about you? How are you feeling today? Did you eat your lunch?
EDWARD: I always wonder who the son is. You don’t have to treat me like a child. I’m your dad.
MICHAEL: Please, just tell me if you ate enough. 
EDWARD: I had some of the cottage pie we ate yesterday. Oh no. . . . I might have had Yorkshire pudding. [He doesn’t remember]
MICHAEL: We should visit Dr. Bodkin one of these days.
EDWARD: Why should we? I never liked that man. He broke my sister’s heart when she was young and never came back to apologize with me.
MICHAEL: What are you talking about?
EDWARD: I’m saying that we shouldn’t go to that man’s house. I don’t like the way he talks. He smells,
MICHAEL: As always, these are not valuable reason why not to visit your own doctor.
EDWARD: I’m really hungry now. Let’s eat something together.
MICHAEL: You said you had cottage pie, or maybe Yorkshire pudding.
EDWARD: Yes . . . maybe! I also said I couldn’t remember. After a day of work you should be hungry!
MICHAEL: Of course I am. So . . . you want me to cook something?
EDWARD: That would be great my son.
MICHAEL: So now you remember I’m your son.
EDWRD: What did you say?
MICHAEL: Nothing relevant, sir.
Light cue:
End of scene two. (This scene is directly connected to the next scene.)



SCENE THREE

Helen and Josephine are already in the scene. Peter, a brash car salesman, enters with a record and a cigar in his mouth.

HELEN: AMANDA
JOSEPHINE, HER DAUGHTER: SAMANTHA
PETER: ROBIN

Music:  A Taste of Honey by Herb Alpert and The Tijuana Brass.
Fade in: 2:30. Fade out - end.
Light cue:

[Somebody – Peter rings at the door.]
HELEN: Who can it be at this time of the night?
. . . Oh! My God! Look what the wind’s blown in. What do you want?
PETER: Just passing by, you know. Thought I’d take a look at your new headquarters.
HELEN: Just passing . . . How did you find my address?
PETER: I found it. Did you think you could escape me, dear?
JO: So that’s what she was running away from.
PETER: Who’s this?
HELEN: My daughter.
PETER: Oh! Hello there.
JO: What’s this one called?
HELEN: Smith.
JO: You told me not to trust men calling themselves Smith.  Is he staying?
PETER: Yes, I’m staying.
HELEN: What did you want to follow me here for?
PETER [fumbling]: You know what I want.
JO: What does he wants?
HELEN: Give over, Jo!
PETER: Do what your mother tells you.
JO: Ordering me about like a servant! [PETER makes another pass at HELEN.] I suppose she hasn’t told you about me.
PETER: Christ!
HELEN: Go and lay the table.
JO: No.
HELEN: Well, do something. | Turn yourself into a bloody termite and crawl into the wall | or something.
PETER: Get rid of her.
HELEN: I can’t. Anyway, nobody asked you to come here.
PETER: Why did you come here? I had to chase all over town looking for you, only to finish up in this dump.
HELEN: Oh shut up! I’ve got a cold.
PETER: What on earth made you choose such a ghastly district?
HELEN: I can’t afford to be so classy.
PETER: Tenements, cemetery, slaughterhouse.
HELEN: Oh we’ve got the lot here.
PETER: Nobody could live in a place like this.
JO: Only about fifty thousand people.
PETER: And a snotty-nosed daughter.
HELEN: I said nobody asked you to come. Oh my God! I’ll have to have a dose of something. My head’s swimming. Why did you follow me here?
PETER: Now you know you’re glad to see me, kid.
HELEN: No I’m not. The only consolation I can find in your immediate presence is your ultimate absence.
PETER: In that case, I’ll stay.
HELEN: Oh! Throw that cigar away. It looks bloody ridiculous stuck in your mouth like a horizontal chimney.
PETER: Blow your nose, woman. [She does.] And while you’re at it blow a few of those cobwebs out of your head. You can’t afford to lose a man like me.
HELEN: I’m thinking of giving up.
PETER: What?
HELEN: Sex! Men!
PETER: What have we done to deserve this?
HELEN: It’s not what you’ve done. It’s what I’ve done.
PETER: But [approaching her], darling, you do it so well.
HELEN: Now give over, Peter. I’m tired.
PETER: Well, put your hat in, let’s go for a drink. Come on down to the church and I’ll make an honest woman of you.
 [HELEN goes to put her coat on, and then changes her mind]
                 I’m offering to marry you, dear.
HELEN: You what?
[Helen and Peter start drinking.]

Music:  Darling by Johnny Dankworth
Fade in. – 0:46 fade out, 0:57 stop.
Light cue:

Light cue:
PETER: Come on, let’s go for a drink. You won’t find anything better.
HELEN: Listen, love, I’m old enough to be your mother.
PETER: [petting her]: Now you know I like this mother and son relationship.
HELEN: Stop it!
PETER: Aren’t you wearing your girdle?
HELEN: Now, Peter.
PETER: Whoops!
HELEN: Well, you certainly liberate something in me. And I don’t think it is maternal instincts either.
PETER: Helen, you don’t seem to realize what an opportunity I’m giving you. | The world is littered with women I’ve rejected, | women still anxious to indulge my little vices and excuse my less seemly virtues. | Marry me, Helen. | I’m young, good-looking and well set up. | I may never ask you again.
HELEN: You’re drunk.
PETER: I’m as sober as a judge. | I know it’s my money you’re after.
HELEN: Are you kidding?
JO [coughs and enters]: Excuse me if I interrupted something. | I’m sorry the crockery isn’t very elegant, but it’s all we’ve got.
PETER: Don’t run away.
JO: I’m not running. [Jo sits.]
PETER: Is she always like this?
HELEN: She’s jealous . . .
JO: She should be in bed.
PETER: I know she should.
JO: You look very pale and sickly, Helen. Is he going?
PETER: Why don’t you go home to your father?
JO: He’s dead
PETER: Too bad.
JO: You should ask him to stay. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been thrown out of my bed to make room for one of your . . .
HELEN: Anyway, take no notice of her. She thinks she’s funny.
JO: So does he! I bet he’s married. [Helen and Peter burst out laughing at his joke.] You’re not really going to marry her, are you? She’s a devil with the men.
HELEN: Now come on then, if you’ve finished what you came for you’d better get going.
JO: Shall I withdraw while you kiss her good night?
PETER [Whispering to Jo]: I’ll kiss you good night in a minute, lady, and it really will be good night.
[Once Helen goes to bed, no light – just bulb, Peter harass Jo].
PETER: Well, take care of your mother while she’s ailing, JO. You know how fragile these old ladies are.

[Helen turn off the bulb simultaneously to the light clue:          ]
Music:  A Taste of Honey by The Beatles – Vol. 2Mariachillout.
Fade in. – Fade out (music stays on)

JO: It’s dark now.
HELEN: Are you afraid of the dark?
JO: You know I am.
HELEN: You should try not to ne.
JO: I do.
HELEN: And you’re still afraid?
JO: Yes.
HELEN: Then you’ll have to try a bit harder, won’t you?
JO: Thanks. I’ll do that.
HELEN: Everything is seen at its best in the dark – including me, I love it. Can’t understand why you’re so scared of it.
JO: I’m not frightened of the darkness outside. It’s the darkness inside houses I don’t like.
HELEN: Come on! Hey, Jo, what would you do if I told you I was thinking of getting married again?
JO: With that man? I’d have you locked up in an institution right away!
HELEN: Come on.
JO: No, please, don’t do this to me. Listen to me for once.
HELEN: I will have to. I’m sorry.
JO: I will have to leave this house. I’m sorry.
Music:  A Taste of Honey by The Beatles – Vol. 2Mariachillout. – Still going - fade out – end.                                 
End of scene three.


SCENE FOUR

EDWARD already in the scene, writing on his diary. Michael enters.

EDWARD: BENJAMIN
MICHAEL: NIKLAS

Light cue:

EDWARD [freaking out]: Finally you are here Michael.
MICHAEL: Michael? That’s my name!
EDWARD: Why are you so surprised?
MICHAEL: You haven’t been calling me with my birth name, since a long time.
EDWARD: What does this mean? What’s happening? I must have missed something.
MICHAEL: Yes, you did. What’s going on?
EDWARD: This morning I woke up and everything was different. I couldn’t recognize my bedroom, my books, everything has changed.
Who else lives here with us? Michael, believe me, I just can’t remember anything of what happened in the last two months.
MICHAEL: Dad, it’s not just about two months. This has lasted since forever. We moved here almost 3 years ago because you got sick.  I really don’t know what all this is about but it’s just too much for me.
EDWARD: So am I sick? What’s wrong with me?
I was just sitting here and I remember that we were having a huge fight concerning you joining the army or not. I was wrong at imposing my ideas on you.
MICHAEL: It’s fine.
EDWARD: If you don’t want to join the military, that’s perfectly fine with me. I thought I could have led you to something better. But it’s your life, your choice.
MICHAEL: It’s over now. I didn’t join the military.
EDWARD: I must have had a nervous breakdown. Like, where are we? I want to go home Michael. I need to go home.
MICHAEL: You are home. I was in Ireland when you wrote me that you were coming back to England. We decided to move to Southport and I started my job at the farm. Mum was with us.
EDWARD: Where is she?
MICHAEL: But you got sick. At first Dr. Bodkin said it was just a consequence of the war; a trauma. After a year you worsen and none of us really still have discovered what the origin of your illness is. You stopped working and mum had to take care of everything. It was hard. Things changed. Until mum told me she was not anymore able to carry on. She started to drink, she drunk a lot.  So, she left and never came back.
EDWARD: No . . .
MICHAEL: It’s just me and you now. This is where we live, this is our life.
EDWARD: How is your life like? I don’t know you, you became a man and I don’t know you.
MICHAEL: Well, I have a job.
EDWARD: And do you like it?
MICHAEL: Yes. I need to like it. It’s great. It’s all we have.
EDWARD: Well. And do you have plans?
MICHAEL: Not really. But it’s fine. You are part of the plan.
EDWARD: I don’t have to be.
MICHAEL: You do.  You stayed. We are a team now.
EDWARD: What happened to you now? You have no plans? You were ambitious. The Michael I remember was passionate, focused, a force of nature. You need to know what you want. What are you waiting for? Are you kidding me? Look at me; I have a disease that nobody can figure out what it is. My life is gone, but at least I lived it.
MICHAEL: Dad. . . .
EDWARD: No, listen to me. Not everybody have your potential; you are smart brave and talented. How many people do you know out there that are so gifted?
I did my best to raise you up as an extraordinary human being. Your mother and I scarified ourselves for you and your future. So, now, imagine my disappointment; after three years, you have grown up, you are a man, and you are anything more than ordinary. Unacceptable!
MICHAEL: I will go and phone Dr. Bodkin.
[Michael calls Dr. Bodkin.]
MICHAEL: Hello, here is Michael. I was looking for Dr. Bodkin.
Hello? Who am I speaking with?
MICHAEL: Oh, here you are! It’s Michael. 
How are you doing young man?
MICHAEL: I’m doing fine.
It’s for your dad?
MICHAEL: Yes! We were already planning to come for a visit, but you know how Edward is sometimes.
EDWARD: I can hear you.
So, tell me.
MICHAEL: This morning Edward woke up and he was lucid.
Lucid?
MICHAEL: Yes! I mean coherent.
EDWARD: For sure the most coherent in this house.
MICHAEL: I am confused. I don’t know what’s happening, and to be honest I didn’t know this could have happened.
 [In the meantime Edward is writing in his diary.]
I can imagine. You need someone to help you.
MICHAEL: What do you mean?
An external help. You can’t go through this all alone.
MICHAEL: You are definitely right. I will come to visit you as soon as possible. In the meantime I will contact Miss Josephine. How old is she?
Your age. Seventeen I guess.
MICHEAL: Isn’t she too young? How is she going to manage to give us the support we are looking for?
I need you to do me this favor.
MICHAEL: Oh, I see. So, she is moving away from home? I can understand. Of course! I owe you this favor. I will phone her immediately and I will also manage to make some space in the hosts’ room.
Thank you so much Michael.
MICHAEL: Thanks to you Dr. Bodkin.  It’s always great to hear from you.
[End of Michael’s phone call with Dr. Bodkin.]
EDWARD: My old diary; the 29th of April . . . always on my memories.  My little sister, my mom and I would always go to the market together and buy . . . I think it was Sunday, or maybe Saturday. [Edward has difficulties in remembering.]
MICHAEL: So Dad, I talked with Dr. Bodkin. We are going to have a hard time, but it’s great. Since I will need some help, Dr. Bodkin told me to phone Josephine. She will be living here for a while and she will help us. Starting from this week I will be spending more hours at the farm, but you won’t have to worry about anything because Josephine will always be here.
EDWARD: You remind me of my son.

Music: Man is the Baby by Antony and The Johnsons. - Fade in – Fade out: 00:49 – 00:53 stop.

MICHEAL: I can’t believe this is happening.  Perhaps, you should go to bed now.
EDWARD: Yes, I’m really tired. It has been a long day.
MICHAEL: You tell me.
EDWARD: Good night young man.
MICHAEL: This is destroying me. [Edward leaves the scene.]

End of scene four.



SCENE FIVE

Michael is already on stage, somebody - Jo ring’s at the bell.

MICHAEL: NIKLAS
JO: SAMANTHA

MICHAEL: Who is there now? . . Yes?! Who is there?
JO: Is Josephine.
MICHAEL: How can she be already here? Oh Josephine, please come in.
JO: Hi, I’m Jo; we briefly spoke at the phone today.
MICHAEL: Of course, I remember.  Dr. Bodkin gave me your number. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you so much for urging; even though I was expecting you to arrive tomorrow. But please, don’t get me wrong. I’m really glad you that are here.
JO: No, absolutely, you are right. I’m really sorry about this. I shouldn’t have been here today. It’s just that I didn’t have a place where to stay.
MICHAEL: It’s all right. You don’t have to give further explanations. I will just need to set up your room.
JO: Of course.
MICHAEL: Do you want some tea?
JO: Sounds nice. . . . I really like it here. It’s really tidy. Do you have someone who cleans up for you?
MICHAEL: Not really. It just the two of us; so I can manage to keep the house well organize.
JO: I wish mine was so organize. . . . So, is it just you and your father that live here?
MICHAEL: Yes. But, you might want to know precisely why I called you. It’s my father. And, of course, also me! But, it’s my father. I still don’t know what exactly it is, but I would say . . . lack of memory? Yes.
JO: Oh, I’m sorry about this.
MICHAEL: You don’t have to be.
JO: When did this started.
MICHAEL: Quite a while ago. Almost three years. We moved here with my mum, but after a while she left because she couldn’t take care of us anymore.
JO: So you have been taking care of your father since then.
MICHAEL: Yes.
JO: I know what you mean.
MICHAEL: Are you sure?
JO: Yes. We don’t talk. We keep everything inside us and we don’t share. We always look good, we are fine.
MICHAEL: People don’t know about us, they don’t know our story. What’s your story Josephine?
JO: Call me Jo.
MICHAEL: How are your parents like?
JO: My dad died when I was little, I never really knew him, and today I’m not even that sure whether he was my father or not.  My mum!? She’s crazy.
MICHAEL: What do you mean by that?
JO: Normally people just accept my first answer. She is crazy, that’s all I say about her. But really, talking about her embarrasses me.
MICHEAL: Making decision for my father is embarrassing. Walking around the town and seeing him not being able to recognize his best friends is embarrassing.
JO: I’m sure it is. . . . Every three months we move. I hate it. I hate her.
MICHAEL: I hate him.
JO: I hate all those men. I don’t have friends. I never want to follow her, but I have to. I must because she managed to alienate every single person around her. 
MICHAEL: And I’m the only one. So I have to step up and follow him and be him.
JO: I don’t even know who I am. I’m her. I’m what she wants me to do and what she needs me to be.
MICHAEL: He doesn’t even remember my name. He calls me Scott.
JO: Who is Scott?
MICHAEL: His best friend during the war time. But I’m not his friend, I’m his son.
JO: Why do you want me here?
MICHAEL: When the worst case scenario comes through, all you can claim for is help. This morning he woke up and he could remember everything except of what happened in the last three years. But he could remember my name, Michael.
JO: So he does remember now?
MICHAEL: No. By the end of the day he told me that I remembered him of his son.
JO: How can I be helpful?
MICHAEL: I need time and space for myself. He told me I was not anymore ambitious and passionate, I was unfocused. He asked me what have happened to me.

Music: Man is the baby by Antony and The Johnsons.
Fade in: 01:28 – Fade out – end.

JO: She happened to me. And now, she is getting married. She’s getting married with one of her consumers. I asked her not to marry him, but she wouldn’t listen to me. I would have given her an explanation if she would have at least asked me one. But she didn’t. She cares more about them.
MICHAEL: You need me.
JO: She needs me. But I want to go further. I can’t just be like her. I can’t just give up. Hope, hope, I have faith.
MICHAEL: It’s hard when you are alone.
JO: I love her. I don’t feel alone when she’s not with me because I know she loves me. It’s when I’m with her, when I’m part of her plans that I would rather disappear.
MICHAEL: It’s not anymore about me. It’s about us; my father and I. We are a team.
JO: And we are warriors.
MICHAEL: I’m not sure about that.
JO: I’m your friend.
MICHAEL: And how does it feel like?

End of scene five (This scene is directly connected to the next scene.)



SCENE SIX – Monologue by Helen

Helen is drunk. 

HELEN: AMANDA

Light cue:

Bad. It feels bad. Jo: pass me the bottle. It was the only thing she was capable of doing. Peter was right; what can I do if I have a snotty-nosed daughter? She is exactly like me. What else in heart do I want, if not here? That’s right, her. She’s gone. Honest to God, I would have never thought that she was actually capable of something. But, apparently she’s gone. I have been awake all night and still she hasn’t come back. Fortunately enough I have some company. [She is referring to the whisky bottle.] Maybe tonight a man company would have been better. But Peter just told me that he his not anymore intentioned to marry me; I knew he was just playing with me. He is not the first one to do so. Please, don’t feel sorry for me. I just don’t understand why he told me he would have married me, if I had a nicer daughter. You see, Josephine, again.
What kind of mother am I? I gave her the worst I could have. I never took care if her and now she is gone. But, I couldn’t have been useful anyway. I was too young and now I’m just not capable. I gave up a long time ago. But she took the right choice. She’s free. I already ruined her life, and now she can choose what to make of it. I couldn’t choose. None of us chose.

Music: Lonesome Traveller by Lonnie Donegan. Fade in – until end of show.


End of scene six.
THE END

Casting . .

The IP season is about to start . .

10th September 2011:
Today the theatre department met to organize the audition. It was a good meeting, in which we mainly focus on how to separate people (in four groups) based on what are our necessities. It seems like me, Laura, Sidingo and Abhinav will be operating in the same area and looking for actors who are ready to involve themselves and give us the emotional truth, but at the same time deal with delicate issues.

12th September 2011: (auditions)
Overall, it went well. I was able to individuate several people I might be interested in casting:
®     Edward: Benjamin, Joe
®     Micheael: Niklas, Victor, Jordan
®     Jo: Samantha, Ela, Noah
®     Helen: Amanda
I was particularly impressed by Gabbi’s, Genevieve’s, Kristina’s and Tram-Ahn’s auditions.
Therefore, tomorrow for the call backs, I will be calling Benjamin, Victor, Joe, Niklas, Jordan, Samantha and Amanda. We didn’t really organize ourselves for the call backs, but hopefully each director will be able to have a 5 minute section with the actor in which they are interested on and by the end of the day, we should be casting.
I personally liked the casting method we adopted this year, although he got quite repetitive, it was more efficient in order to see the acting skills of each person and focus directly on singular people or interest (since the groups were between 3 to 9 people).

13th of September 2011: (call back and casting)
Yeahhh.. I got all my first choices: Amanda, Samantha, Benjamin and Niklas. I fought hard in order to get them, although I was pretty generous with interchanging and substituting. Casting for me was easier than for others, since I had only four characters.

14th of September 2011:
After a last editing to the script, and being afraid it would have been too short, I added a scene I wasn’t sure I was going to add. The scene is now going to be the 3rd scene of the play (out of five), where one of Helen’s clients, Peter, rape Josephine, this being the trigger why Jo will leave home and go work for Michael and his dad. I always wanted to add this scene, but I was afraid it would have been too harsh which is something I really wanted to avoid (learning from Mini IP), but I finally figured out a way in which to recreate the scene without the act of raping being too harsh and unrealistic. So now, a new member of the cast is Robin Williams, starring Peter.

I also already talked with several people for the production crew – fundamental:
-          Light: Sahar
-          Stage manager: Hadi
-          Sound: Hulwa (Ramiro said no)
-          Backstage: no need (no scene change)

..work in progress..

Kitchen sink realism (or kitchen sink drama) is a term coined to describe a British cultural movement which developed in the late 1950s and early 1960s in theatre, art, novels, film and television plays. It used a style of social realism, and is usually is placed in an ordinary domestic setting and typically tells a relatively mundane family story. The plays are socially and politically motivated, seeking to focus attention on the destruction of moral values caused by consumerism and the break down of community.

A Taste of Honey is the first play by the British dramatist Shelagh Delaney, written when she was 18. It was initially intended as a novel, but she turned it into a play because she hoped to revitalize British theatre and to address social issues that she felt were not being presented.
A Taste of Honey tells the story of Jo, a seventeen-year-old working class girl, and her mother, Helen, who is presented as crude and sexually indiscriminate. Helen leaves Jo alone in their new flat after she begins a relationship with Peter, a rich lover who is younger than her. At the same time Jo begins a romantic relationship with Jimmy, a black sailor. He proposes marriage but then goes to sea, leaving Jo pregnant and alone. She finds lodgings with a homosexual acquaintance, Geoffrey, who assumes the role of surrogate father. Helen returns after leaving her lover and the future of Jo's new home is put into question.
A Taste of Honey comments on, and puts into question, class, race, gender and sexual orientation in mid-twentieth century Britain. It became known as a "kitchen sink" play, part of a genre revolutionizing British theatre at the time.

Although I grew up in close contact with people who suffered of Alzheimer, in order to be able to explain the behaviour of Edward, I had to research a lot, so that I can easily transmit to my actor what exactly I want from him. Still, I realize how this personification is going to be difficult and in somehow risky.
The behaviour
The signs

Wandering
Ÿ  Not able to follow a conversation for too long.
Ÿ  Look and walk away while interacting with somebody.
Ÿ  Inability to acquire new memories; difficulty in recalling observed evens.
Ÿ  Confusion (people with dementia may become anxious about future events such as a visitor arriving, which can lead to repeated questioning).
Restlessness
·           Paces nervously, drums fingers, etc. for long periods of time.
·           Pacing up and down 
·           Some people with dementia may undress in public, having forgotten when and where it is appropriate to remove their clothes.

Repeated actions
Ÿ  Repeats words or actions over and over and over again.
Ÿ  Repeatedly asking to go home.
Ÿ  Multiple phone calls.
Ÿ  The person may continually call out for someone, shout the same word, or scream or wail over and over again.

Suspicion
Ÿ  Thinks others are trying to hurt them.

Aggression
Ÿ  Physical and emotional outbursts (i.e., shouting, hitting).
Ÿ  Irritability and aggression.
Ÿ  Mood swings.






Let's get it started! (Pitch)



The interest that I lately developed around ordinary domestic setting and mundane family stories first drove me to the direction of writing an original piece about an Irish working class man and his son. The Story of a Man is a play about a sick and desperate father, Edward, who is struggling with the fact of raising his adolescent and hopeless son, Michael. In the action of linking the play with an aspect of theatre theory, tradition or practice as an underpinning and basis for approaching the creation and rehearsal process, I discovered the British cultural movement that raised “Kitchen sink drama”. Being particularly drawn by the play A Taste of Honey by Shelagh Delaney, I decided to adapt some sections of the play regarding the tensions and conflict between a seventeen-years-old working class girl, Jo, and her mother, Helen, who is presented as crude and sexually indiscriminate.
My final product consist on dividing the stage into two, recreating two independent living rooms scenario, and having a parallelism in the narration of A Taste of Honey and A Story of a Man. Even though the setting might appear confusing and surreal, my main aim is to recreate a symbolic and naturalistic environment, mostly decorated by John Bratby’s expressionistic paintings. This new combination is therefore “Here we are.” and will explore social issues and strong themes.
By the end of the play, the audience will be expected to build a connection and empathize with the characters, their ordinary lives and their emotions. 

IP time ..coming soon

11th June 2011

Today I received an email from Libby saying:
Develop a plan/ script for your Independent Project. If you are doing Option A (devising) you must come back with a script. Please remember how hard it is to write completely original material; I recommend you to take it on only if you have a real love of, experience of or skill at it. You may choose to adapt or work from an existing play, novel, story, poem or news item, or do a piece that is not primarily text based. Do not forget that you must demonstrate some kind of theoretical or research ‘underpinning’ and that you are recommended to show how your IP has grown out of an interest developed in your first year.
At first I was really excited about receiving email, but after a while I realize that it was actually time for me to start working on something.
Fortunately enough I had my new theatre journal. I wrote on it, I wrote a lot without even realizing. My favourite moment to write is while travelling, either just taking a bus to downtown or better, while travelling around Europe.

-       I wrote about a man, who I will always meet in the same line n°51. He would be always dressed up, as if he was going to work, and I always thought that he worked or live next to the physic centre in Trieste. On day, it was late afternoon when I feel asleep in the bus and a did a entire round trip journey in that bus. So, I noticed that the man was still in the bus, so I thought that might be his home. For the following days, although that bus takes longer to drive me home, I would take, to see, observe and write about him. I called him Simon, but I was sure that was not his name. it was a really situation, also because when he was not in the ride, I would go to the bus driver and ask him more and more about that man, because I wanted to dream and write about why and what led him to this lifestyle. I didn’t end up discovering a lot about him, but for me he was the dreamer. He was the one who wouldn’t accept simplistic and incomplete answer that was given about the mysteries of existence and the universe in which we live, he simply wanted to discover and know what’s over our capacity. But he went too beyond, and now he is anymore able to communicate and build a contact with those of us who chose or couldn0t go beyond.

-       I wrote about a woman I saw the 11th of June 2011, the day I left for my trip in Europe with Derek. I know nothing about her, but I observed her because she was too fascinating to me. People would say that she was crazy, but I wanted to give an explanation to her craziness. Here what I came up with. Jane; 1,50cm tall, Caucasian women in her fifties, blond and short hair, and a surly person.
“My name is Jane and please don’t sit next to me. I don’t like people because they constantly judge me, they say I am crazy. One I was beautiful, men couldn’t stay away from me, and I loved it, but they ruined me. I have been since a week, or maybe more; this is life. I think I have been doing this since the past 10 years. I have always been a perfectionist who was afraid of failure, and once I failed. Since I wasn’t able to accept it, I decided to give up and let life drive me; and so here I am. The best of moment memory I ever had is the journey I did with the only man I ever loved in my life; it was the hot summer of 1982 and we went to Oslo with our motorcycles. I remember every single moment, day, of that journey; I loved those years. I was brilliant and happy; I knew what I wanted, until I feel from the motorcycle. There is nothing else I can remember, the beauty and perfection of my life was gone, and so my soul. And today is just me, the crazy blond woman.”

-       I wrote about Roxanne, the lady of the day. She was from Barcelona and she had to learn how to survive. She like many of us, she was one of us.

-       I wrote humans and their instinct, while travelling with a train from Rome to Venice.

-    I wrote about beauty; about the harmonic fusion of azure, bright gold and coral pink that illuminates Venice at 7 in the morning. I wrote rare and delightful experience; I wrote about love and poetry.

Writing made me happy and made me wanting to write more, about me and my story. I wanted to share what I’ve got to share, through theatre.
So I wrote about being abandoned by my mother when I was two years old, I wrote about my mother traveling around Europe as an immigrant of the ‘90s. I wrote about my disappeared sister in Turkey, the death of those I loved, the birth of those that are not part of me, my family and my future. I wrote about growing up by myself while my mother was gone for eight years, without me knowing where she was. I wrote about the only father I was able to love, who was arrested, and who I never saw again. I wrote about being the first black kid in my school and I wrote about my first and only love.
I was ready to share and open myself, but I realized I couldn’t do it. It was too much, for me and for my audience. It wasn’t necessary, not now, not yet.





21st September 2011

I took this decision a few days before arriving at Pearson, so I had to think of something else. I had to write about something else, because I wanted to write. So I decided to tell the story of someone I love. The story I was ready to share was about someone close to my heart who had to grow up and live alone, taking care of his dad suffering of Alzheimer. I immediately realized how challenging this was, but still I wanted to write about it. English is not my first language and not all of us are gifted enough to be able to write for an audience. This was my challenge and I was ready for it.
Once we got back, I associated my play, with the genre domestic drama and I started researching more on this genre, until I discovered the genre Kitchen sink drama (or kitchen sink realism), coined to describe a British movement which developed in the late 1950s and early 1960s in theatre, art, novels, film and television plays, that used a style of social realism, which often depicted the domestic situation of the working-class in the United Kingdom. While researching, Libby suggested me the lecture of “A taste of honey” by Shelagh Delaney and after reading it I felt a connection with the book. The story as a whole was not directly related to my story and the story I initially wanted to share, but the environment was exactly the same. The relationship between the two main characters of the play, Helen and her daughter Jo was what would have been the introduction to my personal story.
So, Here we are, a parallelism between the story of Michael and his dad Edward, who suffers from Alzheimer disease, and Jo and her mother Helen. 

lunedì 7 novembre 2011

Take a break!

7th June 2011
It’s summertime. Although school is over and even if the last thing I want to think of is school, the first thing I bought as I got home was a notebook. I bought a notebook because as soon as I got home I wanted to write the most I could, all the ideas I would have had relating to theatre. I wanted to write and be inspired.
It’s almost funny because I have so many diary and notebook that one might say I am obsessed by them, which is also true, but I never thought I could have one as well just for theatre and actually go around with it.
When I first fell in love with theatre, it was just for the stage. I loved being there and being watched and observed. I loved being a medium and that what it was.
Then, I did my first musical “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” and I discovered that there is more behind the acting that make a good production. And this is when I first fell in love. It was the stage. It was the beauty of it. It is about power. The power and ability to recreate an environment or/and atmosphere. Since I was little, since I couldn’t have most of what I wanted, especially space for me, what I have always done is  to create an imaginary space where I could dream, believe and act as if that was actually what I have created.
Thanks to my experience at Pearson I have been able to focus and develop this aspect, although what is important for me it is not only being able to set and stage a play, but constantly have the focus on the aesthetic of the presentation of a production.  
Today I can also say that I have been able to direct several plays. I just think it is amazing. It is such a great possibility that I could have never thought of. I don’t realize so, although I should. In the case I will want to go back home and help on a production, although I am so young, I will feel confident enough to direct at this young age. It is true that I am not gifted in writing, although sometimes I like to put together some ideas, but my capacity to ameliorate a give personality and splendor to a play has increased way more than significantly.
I am glad and happy I can write this and I hope I will be able to write more and more on this notebook. I hope I will be able to share what I’ve got to share through theatre.