From now on I'm going to post every valuable step of my new theatre project "La danza del padre". The origin of this project is very simple: my memories of my father's actions around his hypochondria.
I've called it "La danza del padre" because those memories usually come to me as physical and vocal actions and with the time they has been edited one by one in my mind, exactly as they were part of a choreography built inside me.
I love the idea of this stage process, and I'm aware of the possible pain it can provoke to me, but also of the artistic pleasure I can get from it, so it is fair I guess.
My last project (Asylum) failed because it depended of others to its realization, now it only depends of my own work, creativity and desire.
¿Do we start working?
All the steps are in chronological order, that means that at the end you will find the last step the project has reached.
All the steps are in chronological order, that means that at the end you will find the last step the project has reached.
January 26th, 2011
Child's memories
Child's memories
First Movement: Le père qui danse
I remember you falling because of the wind passing by the window,
you screamed as if you said a word in other language, French perhaps (you didn't speak French).
I didn't want to hear you cussing.
You said your back was broken...
I saw it all.
I saw it all.
January 29th, 2011
Child's memories
Second movement: Le père au coeur
You have screamed and beaten, one of your children has fled from you.
You have fallen touching your heart with one of your hands, you're hurt and you're suffering; touching the wall with your other hand, you seem to want to stop the world with it.
We, brothers, cried; now, scared, we see our father fall.We, as spectators, believe in your death.
You have fallen touching your heart with one of your hands, you're hurt and you're suffering; touching the wall with your other hand, you seem to want to stop the world with it.
We, brothers, cried; now, scared, we see our father fall.We, as spectators, believe in your death.
February 6, 2011
Child's memories
Third movement: Le père emmène le frère au cimetiére
My brother will die and my mind edits the memory of it:
You are taking him to somewhere, he is weak and ill.
No matter where you took my brother in real, he never returned to us.
You take him to the cemetery, that's what I see.
You do not cry, but I only can see your back.
Maybe I see this scene as others of your lies,
where you were acting and made us believe that you had died.The truth is harsh and also creates lies in me.
You are taking him to somewhere, he is weak and ill.
No matter where you took my brother in real, he never returned to us.
You take him to the cemetery, that's what I see.
You do not cry, but I only can see your back.
Maybe I see this scene as others of your lies,
where you were acting and made us believe that you had died.The truth is harsh and also creates lies in me.
February 14th, 2011
Child's memories
Child's memories
Fourth movement: Le père au foie douloureux
We see you seated with your feet lying up, we expect something from you, but we don't know what.You've been there, maybe for hours, something hurts and you scream at times.
Your hands push your liver and your face is seized with unbearable pain.
You talk with God, you have a conversation with him but we only can listen to you.
You ask God to let you to continue your mission, you shout that you need time to doing it in peace.
What mission, Dad? What mission God entrusted you?
You have your audience, you know, it's your theater, we are your children;
is your death scene again.
In a few days you'll have surgery because you have stones stocked inside you.
A grain of truth in your ever invented dance of death.
Your hands push your liver and your face is seized with unbearable pain.
You talk with God, you have a conversation with him but we only can listen to you.
You ask God to let you to continue your mission, you shout that you need time to doing it in peace.
What mission, Dad? What mission God entrusted you?
You have your audience, you know, it's your theater, we are your children;
is your death scene again.
In a few days you'll have surgery because you have stones stocked inside you.
A grain of truth in your ever invented dance of death.
February 28th, 2011
Child's memories
Child's memories
Fifth Movement: Le Père se meurt pour première fois.
We know you can not pay the bills,
you have betrayed our mother with several women, and you want to escape from your mistakes;
but we are young and we easily forget, we're easily frightened.
You said you were tired, walked to the bed and you drop it upside down;
you were breathing hard, you said that your heart pressure had problems...
We followed you, curious.
In front of your children you stop your breath, leaving your mouth open, like a dead.
And we are looking at you, calling to you, you don't respond, then we scream.
My father is dying in front of his children!
(...)
This is a rehearsal.
The first of several times you will die like in a theater.
You die in your world of fantasy, this is a stage, a life stage.
We are your ideal audience, naive we suffer, we scream, and we cry.Do you know, dancer father, my mother never believed in your theater?
March 6th, 2011
Teenager's memories
Teenager's memories
Sixth Movement: Le Père est roi et juge.
The father is a king, he has seated on his throne, and he doesn't speak or move.
One of his many children begins his accusations towards me: he says what I do is wrong.
No to how I speak, no to what I speak about, no to how I act, no to what I want in life.
The father is a king and a judge, but he doesn't speak nor move, he doesn't govern nor judge.
He feels supported, plays at being a noble man, wise, understanding, loved.
I am a teenager! I hate that, I cry because of it, I cannot bear that scene, it hurts.
And you are seated, and he is speaking towards me.
I get irritated while replying and claiming.
You asked for a glass of water, you said you felt agitated.
You prepare (we already know it) your next coup de theatre.
March 14th, 2011
Teenager's memories
Seventh movement: Le père meurt pour deuxième fois
After the trial your death came, the second death, the one that was not.Years of lies and nonsense reduced my patience.That night I had been accused and you on your throne had accepted everything against me.You, judge and king without power.Slowly you went to your bed and lied on there looking to the sky; we knew, you were dying.You said you were sweating cold and your lips were dry,blah, blah, blah,you dropped your hands, stopped breathing, and closed your eyes.I didn’t want to permit that, I asked you not to do it.That night I hated you and hated your theater.I climbed unto your bed, I sat on your chest and I shouted again,I called you by your title and by your name: Father! Federico!Then I attacked you, I slapped your face.I had a plan:if you were dead you wouldn’t react, if you were acting again then I was there to make it clear to everybody.Your red cheeks hurt you, so, you reacted,your hand stops my hand, and you tell me that you are fine ...Don’t you see it? I was right!
March 22nd, 2011
Teenager's memories
Eighth movement: Le père est dans le miroir
Time has passed and you no longer live with me.
I feel young and new.
I can change the world because I'm great, because I'm alone,
because I can deny those traces of the past.
Your money is still feeding me and I do not appreciate it, I'm cruel, demanding,
and I think I have forgotten.
The age tricks and surprises.
You're there in the mirror,
as young as I look myself, I see you in there.
I look at me and I see your face, that's not my reflection!
My face is your face that reflects at my reflection.
I detest myself, I hate myself:
so many times you've died, powerless I see it:
your ghosts now inhabit my body!
March 30th, 2011
Memories
"La danza del padre" Ninth movement: La mère est malade.
They say that my mother is about to die.You come back from your exile, pretending to be crooked, limping.As a model son you're repeating the steps of your father:embolism, exaggeration, hypochondria.Mom told us that our grandfather was lying, she had caught the old man walking well,
with normal face muscles, with his hand well,she said that the old man was deceiving them.You arrive as the prodigal son,with your face twisted, your hand cramped, limping.Like a copy, like an inherited model.I catch you while others aren't looking:with a normal walk, quiet, straight.You come back to the room and, before coming in, you pause, you enact a cripple.You visit your dying wife, our loving mother, you present a loving face, a crippled body, a trembling voice.You are such a case,I must either describe you or paint you or kill you.
April 5th, 2011Memories
"La danza del padre" Tenth movement: Le fils se cache.
I'm walking on one side, and you're walking on the other.
I find you without getting caught.
I'm visiting the land where you live but I never thought about visiting you.
Years of not seeing each other, of you not wanting to see us, of not wanting to see you,
and fate makes me meet you there.
I do not want, I do not want it, I do not want to hug you, nor kiss you,
nor know about your life, nor ask how you are.
I look at you, I hide, and I'm still looking at you.
You look healthy, strong, your hair is dyed.
And you're still there, standing.
How could I know that this would be the last time I was going to see you!
And you will stay there forever,
and I will stay hidden, watching.
April 18, 2011
The last memory...
"La danza del padre" Eleventh Movement: Le père meurt pour dernière fois
I had delayed your death but today I am willing to assume it and write about it.
There was no last time for me:
Your trail is lost and the pain of a phone call does not change my hatred for you.
They say you died in your bed, of that which you had asked for so much,
of what you had rehearsed so much: "Le père au coeur" comes to my mind.
You left when you were already gone,
already lost from my heart
There was no pain for me.
Dying, I pictured you in your bed
looking at the sky, breathing hard,
and thinking, "am I playing again?"
Your dry lips, cold sweat on your forehead, your hand "au coeur" in a sign of pain.
Maybe an extra beat or an excessive rhythm alerted your truth;
you then surely felt fear, and no longer knew how to stop it,
you got lost in your barbaric game of rehearsals
and it alone, alone stopped, without you to help it.
Distant calls finally announced that you were finally gone.
Some brothers wept, while others prefered to remain silent.
I never knew whether God spoke with you again.
I, ... I think not.
Those had always been lies, nonsense of yours,
remains of a total lack of adventure in your life.
VISUAL ART AROUND "LA DANZA DEL PADRE"
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| La chûte ou Le fils rêve. (The fall or The son dreams) |
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| Père et fils (Father and son) |
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L'enfant faché (The angry son) May 18th, 2011 Comic strip and Video In La Danza del padre (Father's dance) creation-process the original drawings have got movement, first through the shape of a comic strip and now as a video. Its singular drama is getting more power and clarifying its theatrical story. These are only tests, experiments around, but I'm almost sure that's the way to do this. I'm very excited because everything is new for me and feel passionate exploring it. First movement: Le père qui danse Basic or original drawing  Comic strip based in the original drawing and text of the First Movement     (*) "Trapped By Time" by Subliminal http://ccmixter.org/files/subliminal/28890 is licensed under a Creative Commons license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/ June 6th, 2011 Comic Strip and video of the Second Movement Second Movement: Le père au coeur Basic or original drawing  Comic Strip     (*) "Eve (single edit)" by Subliminal2009 - Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial Share-Alike (3.0) Texts, photographs and videos in this Blog are all author's property, except when marked. All rights reserved by Gustavo Thomas. If you have any interest in using any text, photograph or video from this Blog, for commercial use or not, please contact Gustavo Thomas at gustavothomastheatre@gmail.com. ==================================================================
Original drawing  Comic strip      (*) "The Mystery of Preludio .mp3" by orang_redux_777 2007 - Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial (3.0) Texts, photographs and videos in this Blog are all author's property, except when marked. All rights reserved by Gustavo Thomas. If you have any interest in using any text, photograph or video from this Blog, for commercial use or not, please contact Gustavo Thomas at gustavothomastheatre@gmail.com. ===================================================================
Fourth Movement: Le père au foie douloureux Original drawing  Comic strip      Music: "Aurora Borealis (winter lights wandering)" by CherryGollogoly 2009 - Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution (3.0) |
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"La danza del Padre" Comic Strip and Video for the Fifth Movement: Le père se meurt pour 1ère fois
"La danza del Padre" Comic Strip and Video for the Fifth Movement: Le père se meurt pour 1ère fois
"La danza del Padre"
Le père se meurt pour 1ère fois
Comic Strip
La danza del padre. Fifth Movement: Le Père se meurt pour 1ère fois
La danza del padre. Quinto Movimiento: Le Père se meurt pour 1ére fois
Music:
"Except The Darkness In Our Hearts"
by Subliminal
2009 - Licensed under
Creative Commons
Attribution (3.0)
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