Two catch words : "Populaire" and "Community"

Summer! Warmth, heat, sweat, late sunny evenings, ice-cream, world cup... Now that I got myself a hat, I'm not fearing a heat stroke every time I set foot on the sidewalk, so life is good!

A week ago, the Southside Film festival happened in Bethlehem. 4 days of film screenings, parties, talk-back sessions, and opportunities to appreciate the creative and entrepreunerial drive present in the Bethlehem community. There, I said it. Community. That's one of those words I don't like to use too much. Because it's so full of political precedent. Everyone believes in community building, everyone wants people to live happily ever after together in the same neighborhood, blah blah blah.
But I have to say that the South Side fest is true to the core of the word. It's organised by local volunteer leaders, it uses the spaces of the town, from the Lehigh University campus to the local shops and coffee-shops. The general quarters are located at Deja Brew, the late night parties happen at the Wild Flower cafe, the opening party was at the decor-shop Home and Planet. People from Bethlehem made sure to come, there were auditoriums full of people watching documentary films, shorts and feature-lenghts, all non-mainstream films, part of the festival circuit. And yet, no snobbiness whatsoever. Just a love of film and a passion to make such a large-scale grassroots event work out. This is the festival's 7th year, and it's stronger than ever.
Touchstone also engages with community, working in local schools, bringing shows to kids during the summer, opening its space to artistic groups. The word "community" comes up a lot in our work, and yet we try to use it sparingly. Because it can quickly become stale, dishonest, hypocritical. And we don't want that.
I find similarities between the use of the word "community" in the US, and the word "populaire" in France. Maybe it's because the shadow of the Revolution follows French culture even to this day, but something that is "populaire" is very often seen as something good: Front populaire, fête populaire, bal populaire, soupe populaire, secours populaire, rassemblement populaire, etc.
And that word has been used SO MUCH by the political elite in France that it really is hard to stomach. To the extent that anytime someone says something is "populaire", I glance at them with distrust in my eyes.
But then, when a real "populaire" community event is set up, you can forget about the word, and revel in the beauty of being together. When the audience about to see an Ariane Mnouchkine theatre production is eating delightful food served by the crew in a tent on the outskirts of Paris, that audience is involved in what could be called a "dîner populaire", but all we're thinking about is how good the food is, and how nice it is to be there.
Same for the film festival in Douarnenez. Queues of people waiting to get into the cinema, dinners of sardines and fries made outside in a school courtyard... it might be called "populaire", but it's just a bunch of people having fun together.

So my question is: have we gotten to the point in our societies where we need to use catch words like "community" and "populaire" to bring people together? We must be pretty disengaged from our neighbors if we constantly have to find excuses and schemes to look at each other in the eyes and engage in activities. But since that seems to be the case, then it's all the more important for local leaders everywhere to show how natural it is to engage in community, and to have fun in a "populaire" kind of way. With no political agenda, just for the sake of being human.

Boston

I went to Boston. I moved my bouncy bottom out of Bethlehem and went out to explore the world, and it felt nice. Really nice. I'm starting to like buses a lot. Not nearly as much as I like trains, but trains aren't the way to go in the US. They're expensive, and impractical, and slow. Buses are actually faster, most of the time, and a lot cheaper.

So I took the bus from Bethlehem to New York, and when I got to Port Authority bus station, as I was standing on the escalator and seeing crowds of people pass me by, I heard myself whisper to myself "why the hell am I not living here". It always happens when I'm in New York. I can't help it. Completely spontaneous, completely uncontrolable. A real question: indeed, why am I not living here? Strange. But okay! I'm okay not living in New York. I really am okay with it. Nevertheless, everytime I'm there, I sense the vibe, the sheer energy of that city, and I'm drawn to it. I was a bit disappointed to simplytransit through, until I realized the bus from New York to Boston was crossing all of Manhattan before reaching the highway!

We rode on Amsterdam avenue, from the very lower part of Manhattan all the way up to Harlem. I watched and watched and watched as the neighborhoods changed, as we passed by a Central Park entrance, as a lady all dressed up for church (red and white hat, red suit, red and white shoes) stopped at the crosswalk. When we reached the highway, I could still see the roofs of a burrough, which I realized was South Bronx when I saw a panel on a building " Save the South Bronx".

Then we were on our way to Boston.
Past New York, Connecticut, into Massachusetts, I started realizing what the big deal was about New England. The big deal is that New England is really pretty. Forests and lakes, and you can almost see the crispness of the air. I remembered that some friends I had met in Dublin who were American came from here. And I remembered their descriptions as I was staring through the bus window. This was different from Pennsylvania. It felt more... "North", just as DC feels more "South".
When I got to Boston, I took the subway, which also made me happy, because that's what public transportation does for me. And then, I met up with Olivia. We hadn't seen each other for two years (!) so we of course had a lot to talk about, a lot to catch up on. And, as we immediately bonded again, and felt no awkwardness, we realized that, well, we really were good friends.

We walked a lot, visiting the various neighborhoods, going to Cambridge and seeing Harvard, and going to the Samuel Adams brewery for some beer tasting. And I got to eat the chowda', and some of the best cannoli in the world (Mike's pastry, you should check it out if you're ever over there). Life was good that week-end.
Maybe it was because I was with Olivia, and because we met up with another friend who used to go to Royal Holloway, but I could sense the Britishness, and the Irishness of the environment. Maybe because, for the first time since I've been in the US living here, I walked into a bar that felt more like a pub, more like a place where you actually take your time to sit and relax and drink good beer, and eat something else besides chips. Maybe because the buildings were all red brick, or because of the accents, or because of the public parks and plazas... Boston felt new yet recognizable. It felt like the perfect place to catch my breath, gain perspective and chill. Exactly what I needed!

Jack Nicholson hanging out on a Boston wall

The Harvard Philosophy Department

Harvard bookstore

A funny dentist's window

George Washington in the Public gardens

Old church - newer building

Better

Thank you, my friends.
Much better, meltdown over
Comforting thoughts and words.

Going to Boston for a few days, bringing my camera, will take pictures and share them here!

MELTDOWN!

So...I wrote all this stuff in French about knowing that staying here in Bethlehem was the right thing to do for next year. I still believe that, but I just had a little meltdown this afternoon, feeling very lonely. I miss everyone I know and love, and sometimes I really hate globalisation for being the way it is. WHY ARE WE ALL OVER THE PLACE?

This meltdown probably has to do with the fact that The Pan Show closed last week-end, and that there is now very little for me to do for more than a week until rehearsals start for the summer kid's show. Also, a lot of my friends are taking exams, if they haven't already, and not being around to support them does make me feel particularly isolated. Not being around to celebrate family events and successes also makes me feel isolated.

I have cabin fever, and I'm realizing I'm becoming a workaholic.

If anyone wants to remind me that my choices aren't completely ridiculous, that I am not ruining my life and that I might perhaps find some sort of emotional stability some day, that would be greatly appreciated. If not, don't worry. I'll deal. I will. It's just... sigh. Life is... sighable, sometimes.

Rester

J'ai un peu de temps. Rien de précis à faire avant 17h30. A ce moment là, je passerai un coup de serpière sur la scène, et je commencerai à préparer les coulisses pour le spectacle de ce soir. La première de The Pan Show était hier. Une réussite. Cette petite comédie musicale déjantée et coquine a plu au public. Les comédiens étaient dans la zone, et je n'ai pas fait de grossières erreurs de régie. Soupir de soulagement, sourires et enthousiasme pour les prochaines représentations. Ironie du théâtre, le gros du travail est passé. Maintenant, on peut véritablement s'amuser.

J'écris cette entrée pour parler théâtre, mais aussi pour... et bien pour dire publiquement, aux amis français et membres de la famille qui lisent ce blog, que je vais rester à Bethlehem encore un an. Les membres de la troupe m'ont proposé de rester pour une deuxième année d'apprentissage, peut-être plus spécialisé, et un brin mieux payé.
Après avoir réfléchi, pesé le pour et le contre, je me suis rendue compte que je n'avais pas envie de partir tout de suite, et que je me plaisais bien ici. Touchstone est une institution très spéciale, très précieuse: un bastion du théâtre de troupe. Et quand on intègre une troupe, on se rend vite compte que ce n'est pas un boulot comme un autre. C'est un mode de vie. Un an, finalement, ça passe vite. A peine arrivé, on est déjà reparti. Je n'ai pas simplement envie d'arriver et de partir. J'ai envie de rester, un peu. Et la prochaine étape s'annoncera d'elle-même, j'en suis persuadée.

Cela ne veut pas dire que mes amis et ma famille ne me manquent pas. Au contraire, vous me manquez d'autant plus que je vis joyeusement ici, à des milliers de kilomètres de beaucoup d'entre vous. Sans vouloir paraître malade, j'ai parfois des ... appelons-les des ... visions mentales de vous alors que je me ballade dans les rues américaines. Comme si vous étiez là, le temps d'un clin d'oeuil. Je ressens la complicité et le soutien de tant de personnes en moi et ça me donne un sentiment de paix assez difficile à décrire mais merveilleux à vivre.
Je sais que ma décision de rester n'est pas raisonnable sur bien des plans. Mais un coup de coeur n'est pas, par nature, raisonnable. J'ai décidé de ne pas y resister... et je sais que vous comprendrez.

Short and sweet

I'll make this one short and sweet.

Never thought I could work so much while not feeling completely overwhelmed.

Creativity and trust go hand in hand. So do productivity and trust. Because if they didn't, no play would ever be written, produced, and performed.

Looking forward to reading The Presentation of Self in Everyday life by Erving Goffman. Will most likely write impressions on here.

Feeling like reading these days... if anyone has suggestions (French or English), I'll gladly take them! I miss talking about books.

Work and play

It’s the second day of May, I only wrote once in April on this blog, so it’s time to make things right, and talk about… other things besides how tired I am and how much work I have, because that will get very boring very quickly.

I love the work, don’t get me wrong, but stage management (that’s what I’m doing these days) is… the unsung hero job of the theatre. In a full production, with more than 2 actors, costumes, sets and props, you really need a stage manager to be the eyes and ears of the team, and who can communicate any changes to anyone involved in any production area (cast, lighting, sound, video, set design, etc,) . But the stage manager, as the job requires, has to be discreet, almost invisible, and has to accommodate the team as much as possible while at the same time being a disciplinarian if need be. She/he works closely with the director, but has to respect the director’s vision, without necessarily giving contradicting opinions, unless what is suggested by the director is completely impossible to do. But then, a good stage manager should really think as creatively as possible to find a way to make what the director wants work. It’s a lesson in humility, basically. And I truly respect Touchstone’s resident stage manager, Emma Chong, for her grace and calm under pressure. She’s in the cast of The Pan Show, and that’s why I’m working her usual job. Fortunately, she gives me tips and suggestions to make the whole process as smooth as possible. It’s all about communication, baby. But communicating can be pretty darn exhausting sometimes.

That’s why tango is such a haven for me these days. Tango is also about communication, but in a more visceral sense, which shouldn’t involve much conscious thinking on the follower’s part (the lady). The Lehigh Valley tango society had its Spring Milonga a few weeks ago. A Milonga is a time for tango dancers to meet up and dance the night away. It’s different from a Practica, where you dance to learn and refine steps and techniques. The Milonga is the real thing: you’re on the dance floor, and anything goes. You and your partner just have to find a way to make it work. Our teacher had told us that we would, at one point or another, have a “tango moment” and thus become inevitably hooked. I already had a real appreciation for the dance, and enjoyed going to class every Wednesday, but my “tango moment” happened at the Bethlehem Milonga. Joaquin Canay, an Argentinean tango teacher who now lives and works in Syracuse NY invited me to dance. I was intimidated, since he’s a teacher and, obviously, very skilled. So the first dance really, well, it sucked. I wasn’t letting myself go, I was thinking every move, and just wasn’t in the moment. The song ended, he said ‘thank you’ – anytime one of the dancers says “thank you”, it signals the end of dancing together – and I went back to my seat to watch. But thankfully, he asked me later to dance again. And that time, I let go, I trusted his technique, and really tried to follow. Which, actually, was incredibly easy once I turned my brain off, since he’s such an incredible lead! And that’s when it happened – the tango moment, the great dance, the peaceful 15 minutes (for he didn’t say thank you after the first dance, I was doing something right!) – and now I will keep on dancing to collect more moments.

There’s something old-fashioned about the whole thing. The dressing-up, the class, the politeness, the ceremony. Structured, peaceful, pleasurable, necessary.