My Experience in Tights: Spanish Shakespeare

I'm going to start off with the customary apology for my lack of blog entries. I'd tell you it was because I was busy, but I'm taking this time to blog because I don't want to finish my Directing notebook for my final in Performing Beckett (it's amazing how apathy increases as you approach the finish line. My will-power is currently being held in a thimble).

LA REVENCHA

So, we had quite the week(s) here in Dublin. After the family left, we started heavy rehearsal for the critically acclaimed production of La Revencha de Romeo (if my friends count as critics (and if "You did really well, but we don't speak Spanish and what was with the ending" counts as criticism).

Really, What was with the ending? And does this bird actually live in Venice?

We started running rehearsals from 5-8 the last week of, culminating with a 11-6 rehearsal on saturday where we went until the alarms signifying the school was going on lock-down went off. I would like to be optimistic and say I was super ready for the show come the end of the 7 hour rehearsal, but we didn't actually finish the run-through (both act 1/2), and spent a lot of time working through the technical aspects. In fact, we didn't finish running through the show at all until about 7:15 on monday, the night of the first production (for those of you keeping track back home, yes, the audience showed up at 7:30). But, we somehow managed through the first production running on pure adrenaline. Aside from the ending, we did smashingly well, selling out 73 seats (for the first time in UCD Spansoc history), and nobody died! I really put emphasis on that part now because at the time I was completley unsure.

Well, almost nobody died (RIP Tibaldo, Mercury)

Apparently, even the Argentinian ambassador to Ireland showed up. Talk about swanky!
We had a two day break before our next performance, in which period Dramsoc managed to come in and alter every single lighting cue we had put into place as well as altering the performance space without really telling us. They were great about being good hosts. Good job you guys. (overall, my experience with Dramsoc at UCD was not a good one. Not to be a negative nancy, it's just they proved to be incredibly exclusive in a strange combination with pretension. I'd highly recommend finding an alternate route to channel your artistic endeavors if you decide to come here) After fixing it all, we put on a smashing performance. I'll avoid personal criticism, but it turned out much much better than I originally feared it would be.

We did our cast party at Pacino's on Suffolk street for Tapas and wine, followed by a cast outing to Dandelion on St. Stephen's Green. I'm incredibly happy I spent time with these people no matter how afraid of the production I originally was. Thanks for the experience Spanish Society at UCD!

Side notes:

I was going to make this longer to include my story about being invited to Irish Parliament (Leinster house), but I'll break that into another story to tell another day (possibly tomorrow). So, look forward to that. Also, today Barack Obama, Jimmy Fallon, Stephen Colbert, Dave Matthews, and the Roots are all at UNC. Thank God I'm not missing anything back home.

Summer's coming! I'm not unhappy here, but I'm excited at the prospect of coming home. I've got concerts to attend, friends to see, and the world of a 21-year-old to uncover. States May 22nd, and Chapel Hill for good starting June 9th. See you there.

Reliving the glory of being 8 again: The Ring of Kerry

Huge shout out to my family for visiting me this week, and reminding me that there is in fact another place in the world that possesses warmth, sunlight, and short-wearing temperature.

(Also, I heard this week you write a lot like the people you read, so I'll try to avoid using the Ulysses style Joyce is so fond of)

So, as I was listing places to go to in Ireland, taking advice from friends both at home and study abroad, I was told there was one place I absolutely couldn't miss: The Cliffs of Moher...

That's a nice looking coast, you might say

And I haven't been there yet, but also, I was told that the Ring of Kerry was nice as well. SO! That brings us to our story.

After my family arrived on Easter Sunday, I took them on a small walking tour of the city centre of Dublin. Everything was basically closed down for the bank holiday the first two days I could spend with them, but we did the Hop-on Hop-off tour and saw Boyle's tomb at St. Patrick's cathedral (of Boyle's law fame, WHERE MY SCIENCE N3RDS @), went to the Guinness factory to do the 360 bar (this is time #2),  and drove through phoenix park to see the wild red deer that inhabit it. It was quite a treat, and I ate better in those two days than I had in my entirety of cooking for myself in Ireland.

This is week 11/12 of UCD's courses, so unfortunately I didn't get to spend too much time with them tuesday-thursday due to final projects and rehearsals for La Revencha de Romeo y Julieta (showing this monday/thursday in a theatre far away from you). I managed to take out Patrice and Allison on Wednesday night, going on a small pub crawl to show them the wonders of the irish bar. We actually met someone from TN in Temple bar, small world, eh?

So, after my family went off to the Cliffs of Moher on thursday, I was all set to go spend the day with them on friday (my day off from classes) to see the west coast of Ireland in all its pastoral tranquility. Patrice decided that she didn't want to spend another 9 hours in the car, so she stayed behind as we piled in at 9 o clock for our trip to the County Kerry.

After snoozing for the first few hours (I knew all the sheep on the way by this point, no reason to stay awake and see them again), we hit Killarny at around noonish? This signifies the start of the ring, and we decided to do it counter clockwise. I'll go ahead and post some photos here:

If you look really close, you can see a leprechaun

Oh, it's actually in this one

Did I say Leprachaun? I meant a Laugh-ness monster

(It's Nessie's Irish cousin)

Well, anyways, we stopped at a seafood place about 1/3rd of the way through to eat and grab the mandatory pint of Guinness. QC's. Seafood. If you're ever driving through, it's not bad. It didn't start raining until well after halfway through, and it was just overall a jarring experience being in a car again.

That's not a comment on dad's anyone's driving, it's just sitting in the back seat of a car with packed food and a book reminded me of the younger days when we would trip to Florida or the mountains for a weekend break.

But overall, I would say that Lonely Planet accurately described the experience as "Jaw-dropping" with incredibly contrast between the vast open ocean and the sharp jagged purple mountains looming over you. It's the only place I've been where I could've seen something like that with so few people. But it didn't feel super tourist-y, the people were generally nice, and I got some wicked pictures out of it.

I bet Patrice was sad she stayed at home.

Not a bad trip, team Thompson. Thanks for coming!

Other notes: If you're interested in coming to see the show (or a recording), please let me know! Also, I'm feeling in a really baseball mood right now, half-season tickets to the Durham Bulls for the summer, anyone? One more week of class!

Alice in Funderland x2: A Secular Dublin Experience

So, I've been trying to expand my knowledge of Dublin culture as well as Dublin theatre, as you may well know, and this means going to all stages of theatre here in Dublin.

Today, that meant going to see the revival of the Ireland adapted musical Alice in Funderland at the Abbey theatre....for the second time.

NOW HOLD ON A MINUTE. I know what you're thinking. "Are you mental? Going to see a show that you have to pay 15€ for twice? In two weeks? What with all the material flying around Dublin-like. Me own da wouldn't have even given me the funds fer tha..."

Sorry, I think I fell into a proverbial perceived Irish audience rabbit hole there for a minute. Let me explain.

So, the first time I saw this show, last friday, I went with my buddies Ryan and Jani from UNC. I noticed that previews were only running at 13€ for the night, whereas if we waited for the actual production, it would augment up to 15€. I was really saving us all money AND we would get to see the very first show at the Abbey. It was just a good idea all around. So we went.

The first thing you want to hear in a show does not go something like this.

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, but we only finished up the last tech run 2 hours ago, so there might be a few errors with this performance, however have a cocktail on me.."

And the first person you want to see saying that first thing you don't want to hear is the artistic director...but I digress. I'll hit the plot points.

The play followed the general premise of Alice in Wonderland, with Alice (frequently referred to as Mary Anne by the Dublin 8 Warren character subbing in for the white rabbit) making a trip from Cork to Dublin to find a guy who dropped off raspberry-flavored glacier spring water for her sister's impending wedding. It turns into a chase to find her "lost love" Warren and a bunch of hijinx about the Cork-Dublin rivalry with pokes at the common North/South dubliner's expense. With her finding her way to "the castle" (actually a shady nightclub on the south side) to confront "the queen dolores" (actually a sexually ambiguous tyrant looking to exploit her daughter for money (think Hairspray minus the fat-suit)).

The play is incredibly meta-theatrical, where the audience is frequently referenced throughout the show, as well as mentions of lines like "I hope the audience isn't bored/understands this/will think the next act is great," yet still struck home with some poignant themes on love and loss.

The premise of Alice's chasing Warren revolves around the loss of her ex-boyfriend, who apparently died choking on a peanut. (Loss)
Alice in one scene prevents a character from roller-skating off the edge of the roof due to his recent break-up with his boyfriend ("The text just said that there was no we in madonna").
Alice is eventually thrown in the jail where she meets "the sisters" who have succumbed to the fact that dreams are merely that, and you have to stand on your own two feet to survive.

All these concepts of loss mix with a emphasis on flamboyancy, almost defiant anti-heterosexuality, and life in a world where God does not hold all the cards ( "And that God guy, he's just not there, so go on, get off your knees"). For a musical based on being lost, they really hit the nail on the head. Alice's love proves unrequited, and the show only ends with her being happy about what she does have.

It's not carpe-diem, it's only faire-en-raison.

For it being a farcical production, I think it definitely had legitimate moments that gave me chills. I couldn't classify it. I couldn't put it in a box to make things easier. This is either the tragi-comedy I've come so used to seeing in Irish Drama or a musical designed to attack the status quo.

Regardless of how prepared they were the first time I saw it, I think they really got their wits about them for the second production. I'm happy I got the invitation to see it from my friend Katy, because I had a much better interpretation the second time. The universal sense of bereavement really stuck out along with the fact that you're just going to have to stand on your own two feet.  It's a good kick in the pants to make you embrace the world you have around you. Or at least to make do with it.




PS:
Celebration time. We hit 2000 views with the last post. Thanks for being a wonderful listening audience! Love you guys.

Blogging for education preview #3

I was up sending my friend Vanessa off to the at 6 AM, and just got the green light for this entry in my inbox, so I decided to post. Enjoy!

 

Making up 100% of the class's attendance

 

My Protestants, Papists, and Popular Belief: A History of the Reformation class seemed to be an enthralling choice when I was signing up for classes. I’ve always had a passing interest in history, and I figured that I might as well find out some information about the religious background of Ireland while I was here.

Not only was the lecture my first one at UCD, it gave me a vague understanding of how the professors would address the class for the rest of the semester. So there was a lot riding on this first day.

 

The lecture was only an hour, but was paired with a 1-hour “small” group meeting that they call a tutorial here (sometimes they call it a recitation back home). So, we learned about King Henry VIII and his need for the heir and the Tudor dynasty..etc, but the real important part was our involvement in the talk-back during the small group sessions with our professor.

 

So, one of the more overwhelming fears I’ve had in my time at University is a fear of being in a one-on-one situation with professors. Call it a fear of authority, or maybe just a problem with intimacy, but it’s a problem I’ve always had. At UNC, we have Teaching Assistants come in and give you the information in small groups, so you don’t have to insult the teacher by not knowing the material. It’s like a buffer system.

 

I walk into my required tutorial after glancing at my notes from class and relying on the fact that other students will be able to help me out. At this point, I’m still arriving to class relatively early to make sure I’m in the correct room (most of the time, students here arrive exactly on time or a couple minutes late). So, I pull up a chair/desk, sit down in this expansive lecture hall, and wait for the others to arrive.

 

And wait.

 

With about 2 minutes left until class, I peak my head out to see my surroundings. I’m beginning to get nervous, because I’m still the only person here. There has to be some mistake. I’ve come to the wrong room. That can be the only solution. But no, instead I see my professor come ambling down the hall, walking through the door on the far side of the room.

 

My professor, Dr. Mark Empey, takes a glance around the room, and motions at a single wooden table with two chairs at the front. After explaining to me briefly that there was some confusion with registration and that the class wasn’t available when it was supposed to be, he smiles and informs me that

 

“You will be the only student enrolled in this section”

 

Now, I’m not one with a weak constitution normally, but the concept of spending an hour with Mark probing what I absorbed from his class gave me the combined need to faint/run away/cry/throw things across the room.

 

It actually ended up being a blessing in disguise, as Mark was generally ok with the fact that I wasn’t COMPLETELY prepared for the meeting, and humorous with the fact that I made up 100% of the class. We ended up meeting this way for a couple more weeks before I transferred into a bigger section, much to my surprised chagrin.

 

The material may have disappeared into the back of my head, but the memory of the day I conquered my fear of professors will live on.