Ventures/ and Adventures

Steph on the radar.

Remember how we said Berlin was hot? Remember how we sweltered through the city streets and sweated through German phonetics? Remember how we stumbled around in pursuit of that ultimate mirage: the canal beach? I do. I also remember looking forward to the heat-humidity respite that SURELY awaited me at home. How could ANYWHERE north of the equator be as steamy as Berlin these past weeks?

Ahem.

Well, I'm back (after 24 hours of travel) and home, too, is locked in the midst of a ten-tonne heat-wave. I guess it's making me appropriately nostalgic, though, which leads me to this "lessons learned in Berlin" entry...

I think, before touring again on other continents, I'll make more of an effort to master the language. Perhaps because identity manipulation was on my mind (from the show), I was painfully conscious of being an Anglophone and the cultural-imperialism associated with my North American variety of English. I've been told before that I'm too sensitive to such things, but regardless, knowing Deutch couldn't hurt. I have a few phrases in pocket, don't get me wrong. My scant German phrases were mostly centred on food, however, which wasn't helpful once I had a full tummy. Incidentally, as for food, I'm going to ensure I have cooking options on tours in future. Veganism can be hard going and nutrient-poor when you're always in transit. I missed spinach. And Kicher erbsen (chick peas).



Don't do a five-venue show that requires a trunk as a set piece. Especially if that trunk is sticky with an unidentifying decomposing laminate substance. Most especially if the handles are breaking.

In all seriousness, though, I have few real grievances and a lot of renewed creative energy. Berlin seems, to me, a city of astounding artistic vibrancy. It careens with colour and ideas. Audiences were open: somewhat unflappable and eager to engage with us. When we discovered a new location/setting, pacing, direction for scenes (which we inevitably did b/c of radical venue change), they rejoiced with us. Each show, there were unexpected chuckles. I'm thinking, in particular, of the running-order game we played at Hucky's, People and the stones in Hucky's crazy metal chair or the Nightmare scene in his love-nest, the Head scene in the heating vent at Haus am Lutzowplatz, or the 1000 Fiends scene in the nook into the bathroom at Stiftung Starke.





If you've been trying hopelessly to develop a smoked-out voice for a character with which you've been struggling, go sing karaoke for three hours before the show. Works wonders. Yes, I DO mean it.

Keep your chin up. I mean it -- chin up while walking the streets. When a place has a lot of history, you want to be looking up, searching for evidence of air-raids, attack, destruction, concealment, repair, presentation, display. Berlin houses a many-storied psychology in its architecture. All puns intended. I love that.

Travel with a glue stick. And a knife... but keep the damn thing out of your carry-on, so that the nice German customs officer doesn't have to question you. Or, as I said, learn German so you can defend your stupidity.

Our work-adventures reminded me of the happy magicks of theatre. The creation of Magic -- surreality/hyper-reality -- is why I say I want to do theatre. It's real-life-plus. The unexpectednesses of this trip, the multiple venues and the original, unedited, unworkshopped material, led to constant discovery. Ever-evolution. Though we were sweating on our feet, the show felt fresh and, more, refreshing. I sweated more than I can remember as a hyperactive porter during "13,000 Directions", but it never troubled nor dampened me. I found the surprises, for the most part, happy.

Now I just have to figure out how to end global warming and get back.

Goodnight, Berlin.