I don't now if anyone is still reading this blog...it got shut down by the Chinese gov't in advance of the June 4 anniversary of Tienanmen and I didn't update it because of continuous problems accessing it as well as mounting problems on the ground here with putting the show together. (It wasn't MY pointed observations about life in China that made the party bosses nervous, to be sure; they came down on ALL blogs.)
So now it's June 16 already, and so much has transpired in the interim that it would take a day to give a faithful reckoning of it all. I'm sitting at the Westin Chaoyang in Beijing; Caron, Inge, and I returned yesterday from 5 great days in Hong Kong and Macao. Outside, the Beijing sky is night-black with thunder clouds, so it's a good opportunity to repack and get organized before the tour starts tomorrow.
My last posting was about my previous short trip to Hong Kong to attend the Chinese Shakespeare festival at Chinese University of HK. I very much enjoyed the occasion, both because it was well-organized and because it provided a respite from the ongoing challenges of putting together "Einstein's Dreams." Joe Graves had put me in touch with one of his former students, Nancy Yang, who graduated from Beida and now is a law student at HK University. Nancy was extremely friendly, picked me up at the airport, and took time off to show me around. One evening, she and I and Colin McPhillamy (the British actor who was my predecessor at Beida and also acted as judge for the festival) went down into the the bowels of Kowloon district and had a memorable three-restaurant evening: Nancy took us first to a "famous noodle restaurant," then a "famous rice restaurant," and then a "famous dessert restaurant" to top it all off. (Imagine each of these as a little family-run hole in the wall with delicious, though sometimes unidentifiable, food).
The Shakespeare competition featured 12 teams from around China, each allotted 20 minutes to play their scene(s). Predictably, this was a mixed bag, but the best scenes were quite imaginatively staged and executed, especially a Henry VI and a Winter's Tale. The winning team (in this case, Nanjing University) gets an all-expenses-paid trip to London. The festival has just been given another 5-year lease on life through a cash injection by its benefactor, whose enthusiasm for Shakespeare stands in fascinating contrast to his background as a shadowy money man. I think I was able to make some good contacts that might pay off for UF as a way to establish a more lasting connection to the festival.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Hong Kong
I went to Hong Kong from May 25 to 28 to attend the 5th annual Chinese Shakespeare Festival at Chinese University of Hong Kong. I'll blog about that soon, but here are some pictures.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Rain and Shine in Beijing
The play has been progressing at its usual fitful pace, with the usual irritations; this last week, as I was conducting rehearsals in David's absence, we get kicked out of the Democracy Building once ("dragon lady" insisting we had no reservations); got double-booked in our customary rehearsal room (we were able to persuade that class meeting there to take an adjacent conference room); and had to resort for one rehearsal to the corridor of the fifth floor of the computing center. This caused some consternation to the geeks passing by at intervals, especially as the scene we were rehearsing involved the actors lying prostrate and chanting to an imaginary "Great Clock." The computer folks must have thought that they stumbled into the secret rituals of some strange cult.
When the people entrusted with procuring props for us failed to do so, Molly (the stage manager) and I hit the town on Saturday in search of someone to build stilts and make sticks for us. When we finally located woodworking and construction materials shops in a dusty back alley (think Home Depot, third-world style), they acceded to our peculiar demands after much back and forth, animated discussion, and flagrant attempts to price-gouge. Apparently, I made too prosperous and Occidental (Joe's term) an impression, so the price went up the moment they laid eyes on me. But Molly and I -- she's half my size-- drove a medium-hard bargain ("...ok, if they ask 500 yuan, they'll have to throw in the painting and delivery..."). Heaven knows what they'll fabricate for us. Still, we were promised delivery by early next week.
Meanwhile, I blocked through all of the scenes that demanded athleticism (stilt-walking, roller skating, building human pyramids) and formal dancing. To say that this challenged my directorial proficiency would be putting it mildly, but we got through it, and the actors exhibited their usual enthusiasm, if not always the most spot-on physical coordination.
On Thursday night, I had been summoned back to UIBE, the Beijing University of Business and Economics, by the formidable Prof. Sun, for the finals of the Beijing-wide university short play competition. It was raining as I piled into a taxi with the students from Beida who were also presenting a scene. When I arrived at the theatre, what I assumed to be a rather low-key affair turned out to be an enormous extravaganza, with a 600-seat theatre filled to the brim, presenters in formal attire, TV game-show style, video projections, blaring music, etc. One of the solicitous students organizing the show asked me if I was one of the judges. Not to my knowledge, I replied. But of course it turns out that I was indeed, although Prof. Sun had neglected to inform me of this circumstance. (Which was a bit awkward, as a Beida team was competing as well. However, I found out that this kind of conflict of interest is not only not a problem in China, it's in fact expected that competing teams try to stack the jury in their favor. Why rely on merit if you can use influence? In fact, we were being plied with party favors and little snacks all the way through.) As we watched the pieces, all of them contemporary American plays of a signal lack of literary or dramatic distinction, Sun, sitting next to me, would render judgments under her breath in an effort to sway my opinion. "This team chose a very stupid play," she would say with admirable frankness, "they don't know what they're doing." At the end of it all, I was invited to the stage to give feedback -- Sun and I doing a kind of Mutt and Jeff number together. To my surprise, the team from Peking University won and was awarded an 800 Yuan prize. They were all convinced that it was my doing (in actuality, with scrupulous honesty, I had assigned them second place), and we celebrated at a Yunnan restaurant out the south gate long past midnight.
When the people entrusted with procuring props for us failed to do so, Molly (the stage manager) and I hit the town on Saturday in search of someone to build stilts and make sticks for us. When we finally located woodworking and construction materials shops in a dusty back alley (think Home Depot, third-world style), they acceded to our peculiar demands after much back and forth, animated discussion, and flagrant attempts to price-gouge. Apparently, I made too prosperous and Occidental (Joe's term) an impression, so the price went up the moment they laid eyes on me. But Molly and I -- she's half my size-- drove a medium-hard bargain ("...ok, if they ask 500 yuan, they'll have to throw in the painting and delivery..."). Heaven knows what they'll fabricate for us. Still, we were promised delivery by early next week.
Meanwhile, I blocked through all of the scenes that demanded athleticism (stilt-walking, roller skating, building human pyramids) and formal dancing. To say that this challenged my directorial proficiency would be putting it mildly, but we got through it, and the actors exhibited their usual enthusiasm, if not always the most spot-on physical coordination.
On Thursday night, I had been summoned back to UIBE, the Beijing University of Business and Economics, by the formidable Prof. Sun, for the finals of the Beijing-wide university short play competition. It was raining as I piled into a taxi with the students from Beida who were also presenting a scene. When I arrived at the theatre, what I assumed to be a rather low-key affair turned out to be an enormous extravaganza, with a 600-seat theatre filled to the brim, presenters in formal attire, TV game-show style, video projections, blaring music, etc. One of the solicitous students organizing the show asked me if I was one of the judges. Not to my knowledge, I replied. But of course it turns out that I was indeed, although Prof. Sun had neglected to inform me of this circumstance. (Which was a bit awkward, as a Beida team was competing as well. However, I found out that this kind of conflict of interest is not only not a problem in China, it's in fact expected that competing teams try to stack the jury in their favor. Why rely on merit if you can use influence? In fact, we were being plied with party favors and little snacks all the way through.) As we watched the pieces, all of them contemporary American plays of a signal lack of literary or dramatic distinction, Sun, sitting next to me, would render judgments under her breath in an effort to sway my opinion. "This team chose a very stupid play," she would say with admirable frankness, "they don't know what they're doing." At the end of it all, I was invited to the stage to give feedback -- Sun and I doing a kind of Mutt and Jeff number together. To my surprise, the team from Peking University won and was awarded an 800 Yuan prize. They were all convinced that it was my doing (in actuality, with scrupulous honesty, I had assigned them second place), and we celebrated at a Yunnan restaurant out the south gate long past midnight.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Cowboy Rides into Town
The blog's been out of commission because I've had some serious trouble logging in; Google's sites seem to have had problems in all of Asia. Right now, I'm at Starbucks (again) on Tuesday afternoon, and using the UF VPN, which makes the network think my computer's actually in the US. Ah, the virtual life!
Much has happened, and lest I once again get too far behind, here's a digest of it all. Currently, I'm by myself in Beijing. After having come back from Arkansas on Wednesday, Joe Graves departed again for Taiwan on Sunday, this time with David in tow. (Upon entry, Joe was slightly delayed at the airport due to the Chinese authorities' almost militant over-cautiousness about the H1N1 virus -- vulgo, swine flu -- of which there have been a total of 3 (!) documented cases in China, none fatal. If you think that's being unreasonable, let Joe tell you about the time the bird flu hit and they quarantined campus from one hour to the next...no one allowed to leave or enter for 3 months!)
So, I've finally met Joe, who is technically the producer of our show. (David, of course, knew him from being in a play with him at Oregon Shakes many years ago.) He is tall, craggy-faced, sloppy, profane, and entirely charismatic. A full-blooded actor and adventurer, he came to China about seven years ago to do a show and stayed to create an institute, and now has ambitions to establish theatre departments on campuses around China, using their childlike devotion to Shakespeare as leverage. (He tells an unbelievable story about the first Chinese translator of Shakespeare that would need a blog post to itself, or perhaps a movie.) Joe has been able to charm money out of people and do the almost impossible, organizing tours of English and American theatres in China, directing Western and Chinese plays at the People's Art Theatre in Beijing and many other locations around the country, and so forth. He sees himself as a spiritual anarchist (scion of a Baptist preacher, no less), hedonist, and holy fool, and somehow, with his amiable but tough-minded persistence, he is able to puncture that skein of bureaucratic intransigence that otherwise envelopes everything here.
His intervention now has restored our performance dates, at least approximately, at the Centennial Hall theatre on campus. We'll be performing from June 2-4, which is precisely 2 weeks from now. This prospect leaves me somewhat beathless, seeing as we haven't even gotten through the whole play, and have virtually none of the props necessary, haven't talked to the lighting designer, etc. On the other hand, the costumer has come and measured, and promises delivery of the costumes by the 25th. In David's almost weeklong absence -- he and Joe are giving Shakespeare workshops around Taiwan -- I am conducting what must be the most difficult part of the rehearsals (I say this as a mere statement of fact). All of the scenes we've thus far avoided because they involve props (stilts, roller skates) and a good measure of acrobatics and athleticism now fall to me to block through. This continues amid the usual problems associated with rehearsals here -- students who suddenly discover they're unavailable for the evening, rooms that are double-booked or guarded by some dragon with a serious animus against theatre, etc. Fortunately, the actors (when present) are good to work with and quick to pick up ideas. (If they were slow-witted, I'd despair.)
Of course, I'm also covering David's classes, so I'm somewhat beleaguered this week. On top of that, Professor Sun (remember her from a previous post?) once again requires my services on Thursday evening, this time to judge the intercollegiate drama competition at Beijing U of Business and Economics. I'm sure I'll have something to report about that...
Just when David comes back, I myself will leave for Hong Kong from May 25 to 28 to attend the finals of the 5th annual Chinese Shakespeare festival at HK Chinese University. Hardly do I return from that excursion, and we get ready to open.
Speaking of excursions, we did get to go to downtown Beijing on Saturday (finally) to see a magnificent exhibit of Turner paintings on loan to the Beijing Art Museum by the Tate Gallery in London, and we rode the subway home.
Much has happened, and lest I once again get too far behind, here's a digest of it all. Currently, I'm by myself in Beijing. After having come back from Arkansas on Wednesday, Joe Graves departed again for Taiwan on Sunday, this time with David in tow. (Upon entry, Joe was slightly delayed at the airport due to the Chinese authorities' almost militant over-cautiousness about the H1N1 virus -- vulgo, swine flu -- of which there have been a total of 3 (!) documented cases in China, none fatal. If you think that's being unreasonable, let Joe tell you about the time the bird flu hit and they quarantined campus from one hour to the next...no one allowed to leave or enter for 3 months!)
So, I've finally met Joe, who is technically the producer of our show. (David, of course, knew him from being in a play with him at Oregon Shakes many years ago.) He is tall, craggy-faced, sloppy, profane, and entirely charismatic. A full-blooded actor and adventurer, he came to China about seven years ago to do a show and stayed to create an institute, and now has ambitions to establish theatre departments on campuses around China, using their childlike devotion to Shakespeare as leverage. (He tells an unbelievable story about the first Chinese translator of Shakespeare that would need a blog post to itself, or perhaps a movie.) Joe has been able to charm money out of people and do the almost impossible, organizing tours of English and American theatres in China, directing Western and Chinese plays at the People's Art Theatre in Beijing and many other locations around the country, and so forth. He sees himself as a spiritual anarchist (scion of a Baptist preacher, no less), hedonist, and holy fool, and somehow, with his amiable but tough-minded persistence, he is able to puncture that skein of bureaucratic intransigence that otherwise envelopes everything here.
His intervention now has restored our performance dates, at least approximately, at the Centennial Hall theatre on campus. We'll be performing from June 2-4, which is precisely 2 weeks from now. This prospect leaves me somewhat beathless, seeing as we haven't even gotten through the whole play, and have virtually none of the props necessary, haven't talked to the lighting designer, etc. On the other hand, the costumer has come and measured, and promises delivery of the costumes by the 25th. In David's almost weeklong absence -- he and Joe are giving Shakespeare workshops around Taiwan -- I am conducting what must be the most difficult part of the rehearsals (I say this as a mere statement of fact). All of the scenes we've thus far avoided because they involve props (stilts, roller skates) and a good measure of acrobatics and athleticism now fall to me to block through. This continues amid the usual problems associated with rehearsals here -- students who suddenly discover they're unavailable for the evening, rooms that are double-booked or guarded by some dragon with a serious animus against theatre, etc. Fortunately, the actors (when present) are good to work with and quick to pick up ideas. (If they were slow-witted, I'd despair.)
Of course, I'm also covering David's classes, so I'm somewhat beleaguered this week. On top of that, Professor Sun (remember her from a previous post?) once again requires my services on Thursday evening, this time to judge the intercollegiate drama competition at Beijing U of Business and Economics. I'm sure I'll have something to report about that...
Just when David comes back, I myself will leave for Hong Kong from May 25 to 28 to attend the finals of the 5th annual Chinese Shakespeare festival at HK Chinese University. Hardly do I return from that excursion, and we get ready to open.
Speaking of excursions, we did get to go to downtown Beijing on Saturday (finally) to see a magnificent exhibit of Turner paintings on loan to the Beijing Art Museum by the Tate Gallery in London, and we rode the subway home.
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