O Padaria - Day 3

A bakery in Portugal. The bakery serves a butcher’s shop as well as an espresso bar. It’s not a popular bakery, there is little to no business most days. Usually the rushes come in Saturday mornings through to Sunday evening. Its 3 in the afternoon on Friday.

Maria is the daughter of the owner. She works at the bakery and has since she was 13. She is now 23. She hopes to become a journalist after she finishes school, but for the time being Maria finds herself counting money. 

Maria washes her hands and begins arranging meat pieces in the display case. She get frustrated by the way things are placed and begins to frantically reorganize everything. José enters. 

Maria: José!

José: Bon dia.

José is 38 years old and it a family friend. He is very wealthy, but it is not evident by the way he presents himself. 

Maria: I'm glad you came by.

José: I am always here, every Friday.

Maria: Is it Friday already? I swear it was Wednesday, when I woke up I thought it was Thursday.

José: If it was Wednesday you would have seen your mother at noon, and if it was Thursday, your diary delivery would have been delivered to you by 9am. Has any of those things happened?

Maria: Why no! Because it's 3pm and your here.

José: So it must be Friday.

Maria: Must be.

Maria begins shuffling meat around the icebox. She drops three steak packages. 

José: You seem a bit frazzled, Maria. 

Maria: Oh I'm not! Really. I'm just... You know!

José: No, I don't.

Maria: My mother just told me some unfortunate news about a friend, yesterday-

José: Wednesday.

Maria: Hmm, yes Wednesday that's when I saw her.

José: Who was the news about? Unless it's something you can not share.

Maria: I don't think this person would like for me to be talking about them.

José: Oh! So I know them!

Maria: I did not say that. 

José: It's perfectly okay, I'm just bugging you. I don't need to know.

Maria: Well, she told me she saw something behind the farm that was concerning- to her. She doesn't know what to do. I don't really know what to do.

José: We I would be more than happy to give you my advice. 

Maria: You and your advice.

José: It’s my advice that keeps this bakery standing, no?

Maria hands him some sausages and rolls of cheese.

Maria: How has your week been?

José: Extremely busy. I had a day off on Wednesday though I went to the Algarve. 

Maria: You work too hard. 

José: I don’t think meetings with people means I work too hard, I feel like I talk too much. 

Maria: You don’t talk much with me.

José: Every Friday I come in here and I talk to you. We do nothing but talk.

Maria: Yes, but then on Sunday nights...

José: Well there is only so much talking one can do over chicken and turkey. Are you doing anything this Sunday night? I was thinking of taking you up to the Algarve.

Maria: I’m busy.

José: You’re not working on Sunday.

Maria: You don’t know that.

José: Yes I do.

Maria: Mai makes the schedule.

José: I’m sure I can rearrange that-

Maria: And I am working until the evening. I have papers to get done for next week, and I don’t have any extensions, so I have to get them done. 

José: I can help you with your homework.

Maria: I work better by myself.

José: So you haven’t like our Sunday nights together?

Maria: I am just always tired Monday mornings, that’s all. I have to be up so early.

José: I understand. 

José turns to leave.

Maria: Have you seen Rui?

José: Why?

Maria: Well, he’s in the hospital. 

José: Since when? Maria, what happened?

Maria: You don’t know? 

José: Why would I know? Is that what happened on Wednesday?

Maria comes around the counter, she opens the door wide to let the breeze in. She faces José

Maria: Rui was meeting Mai to discuss some business. He was persuading her to hand the business over from you to him. He said he had ideas that would help the business thrive instead of fumble. Mai said she would think about it. So when she was wrapping up the hose on the side of the farmer after seeing Rui out, she heard people fighting. She called emergency before she saw anything, she was so scared, José.

José: What were the ideas Rui have for this business.

Maria: José! You know everything, Mai saw you.

José: Saw me what? I was in the Algarve Wednesday. I did not know anything about Rui and his ideas! I can’t believe you of all people-

Maria: I’m not accusing you, I am telling you what Mai saw, I was in class... Rui is in the hospital with three broken ribs. He-

José: He what?! He’s saying I beat the shit out of him.

Maria: He said he was walking around the farm to get back home when he saw you twisting a chicken’s neck and you said that, “this chicken I’m killing is going to have the same fate as you”.

José: How poetic!

Maria: José.

José: If I had known he was trying to get your poor mother to hand the business over to him I would have run him over with my car 60 miles an hour.

Maria: That doesn’t help you, José.

José: I don’t need you to believe me, I didn’t touch Rui. I hope when he recovers he can save this business because I’m done.

Maria: José, please, just tell me.

José: You are not interested in me or my business, Maria. And if you think I would have done that to Rui, so cowardly behind your mother’s farm, I have no interest in you.

Maria: Please talk to Mai and Rui, to clear all of this up, please.

José leaves.

The Grip - Day 2

It’s a lonely life, I didn’t think I was going to live this long. I always thought I was going to keel over by the time I was 16. But I’m now 20. Ellys died when she was 14, tragic accident. She was crossing the road. Why would she do such a thing is beyond me. 

Her and I left Ma’s nest before we were really even able to. Ma feel off a roof after Farmer Pete scared her. This happened right after Ellys’ first lesson. Ma finished teaching and had to pick up some food, why she would go to Farmer Pete’s roof is beyond me as well. Her and Ellys surprised and frustrated me that way. Now that they are gone, I don’t find myself getting as frustrated, or all up in arms about things anymore, maybe its the solitude of my old age that is getting the better of me. 

Anyhow, I had to teach Ellys the ropes after Ma fell. Ellys was not a natural. She was terrified that the wind was going to open up a window in the sky for her to fall through. She should have been a tortoise or a sloth. Nevertheless she learned how to fly and she never once fell through a window in the sky. Once she managed our simple transport, she was the most elegant raven I’d ever laid my eyes on, and that’s saying something because Ma was brilliant and gorgeous as she swooped down and around our nest every night, just before we snored away the moon. 

I was a decent flyer, I never thought I was any worse than the average winged creature. I picked up flight with Ma’s first lesson and I’ve since then always preferred using the wind rather than the ground. Let the human’s walk and jostle about, I can circle the sky and protect them if trouble comes from above. But that was a naive thought, I had in my youth and I quickly let that go after Ma’s last encounter with Farmer Pete.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about humans and their safety from the great big sky because they never think about us. They see us as vermin or as pets. If we aren’t in their possession, then the dirt on our worn out feathers wasn’t considered by them as patches from a hard days work, but that of grime spewed over our rabid bodies. 

Why do they think of me as a monster? My heart is the size of their ear and their claws have done more damage to me than my talons have scratched on the roof of their house. The cattle think I’m over reacting.

“You should be grateful for being cared for, Farmer Pete is on your side now, rather than the side you must battle to survive.” They clunked along in their heard. 

Little did those foolish spotted brains know where they were headed with the caring of Farmer Pete, they were so gracious to receive. I’ve seen where those cattle wind up, something a creature would never let happen to another creature they cared about.

They’re slopping sucks who don’t know the difference from up to down, how could they know? If I were them I would probably be as gracious as them, blind to Farmer Pete’s ways.

But he has clipped my wings and destroyed my nest that I have been building to withstand earth’s sudden attacks of storms since Ma fell. My only source of survival, flight has been snatched away from me. Now I’m a grounded bird, old and tired.

I’m been this way since I was 16. I honestly felt I was going to meet Ma that day when I picked at the scarecrow. Ellys never liked me going near the scarecrow, just because of the fear it instilled in her, but it’s stuffed body never frightened me. Ellys was gone, so her constant nagging had ceased and I needed stronger material for my nest. I began picking and dropping pieces of the scarecrow’s hat, making a pile below on the ground. I couldn’t have been there for very long until I saw Farmer Pete bolt across the field. He was going to shoot me, I thought. But as he approached I didn’t see a shot gun, or even a shovel to whack me away with. What was he going to do? Grab me by my neck and twist me to my death?

Well, that’s what he attempted to do and he was half successful. Why didn’t I fly? Why didn’t I back away? Why didn’t I fall to the ground? I just froze and allowed this man to wrap his claws around me. As he tried twisting my neck in his beefy sweaty hands, he was pulling and snagging my ebony feathers, which seemed to wound me more than the crushing pending death he was forcing on me. I managed to squeal and squeak as each feather got plucked from my body. These sounds scared Farmer Pete as he lost his grip around my body. He fumbled with me as if I were a stray piglet running away, and a piglet would have been more graceful than me in this very moment as I hurled to the ground.

The next thing I opened my eyes to were iron rods of grey. I was confused. I was certain as I dropped to the ground, that if the fall didn’t kill me, surely Farmer Pete would have. He instead locked me in a cage. Was thing going to be funny for him? How did I serve him as pet in a cage?

It would have been better if I had fell like Ma and keeled over. I wouldn’t be the laughing stalk of the entire farm as I hop around in my cage like a rabbit tying to get around. All I think about is my nest now and how it’s enduring the weather without my supervision over it. It probably has fumbled to the ground, a place where no animals of flight belong.  

My Challenge

The new year has begun!
I've started the first few weeks of 2015 questioning what it is I really want to do with my life. Because my inherit nature involves creation and story telling I've realized what I need to challenge myself and exercise and push myself.
This being my last year at Humber in the Theatre Performance Program, I feel myself as a performer has come a long way and I have a lot to offer and I will be continuing to learn and grow as a performer, even long after I graduate.
As a creator, I need to work and work tirelessly. I need the challenge to build myself into the story teller I want to be.

So my challenge will be to write 1000 words everyday. Essentially I want to be writing short stories, poems, plays for the next 1000 days. Many have done something similar and I've thought before "How absolutely fucking crazy that is", but as an artist and a writer I must do this for the health of my mind, body and spirit. It'll be good for my artist and person as well... at least I hope.

This will be difficult, but I am going to do it. So please follow along and I encourage any followers from my social media outlets to drop suggestions into what they want to see me write about (ie themes, story ideas, motifs, etc.)

WISH ME LUCK

Lisa Alves

Second Year of Theatre School

I haven't written in such a long time because... Theatre School.

Now my last post was last May which was about the time I finished up my first year of theatre school. My first year of training was coming to an end and I was feeling good about the work I had created with my ensemble, but it was summer!!!!

I saw so much theatre, I worked a ton of hours at silly part time jobs, and I went to London, England with my best friend Jessica Goddard. So Summer 2013 treated me very well.

By the Autumn I started my journey in the dark tunnel of second year at Humber College's Theatre Performance program. I wrote in my journals throughout the year how it was not a dark tunnel and how the faculty should stop referring to second year like that because it was such a negative image... BUT SECOND YEAR WAS A DARK TUNNEL.

It was so dark, sometimes I didn't think I even existed or would make it to the exit. We just did so much through the semester, I'm surprise nobody evaporated from exhaustion. We trained in the studio to find the play with our vocal technique and electrify our dynamic alignment, physically.

But besides the training we stared workshopping pieces. We worked with:
Nancy Palk on The Machinal
Kelly McEvenue on The Beaux Stratagem
Alex McLean and Marissa Zinni on Orestia
Kennedy C. MacKinnon and Thomas Hauff on Twelfth Night and A Comedie of Errors
Marie Beath Badian on The Fight.

So yeah... we were basically working on an entire season as if we were part of a professional theatre company. But this is why I love my training at Humber, its practical. Its so similar to what to expect in the real world, from rehearsing classic shows from Shakespeare or Contemporary Dramas or devising as a collect collaborative.

Now that its summer and a full year has cycled through I am so happy to be moving on into my Third Year at Humber. Next year will be stressful and informative and fun, but before September arrives theres a lot that needs to be worked on and I've never been as excited to read, research, train and observe as I am right now.

This summer is going to be different then last. For instance I said goodbye to Walmart last summer and now I'm currently a Barista at Starbucks. I am also continuing my teaching at StageCoach and will be playing Mary Poppins alongside my beautiful head teacher and my rugrats. And this year, I'm excited to be part of Theatre Relay's project.

Its a collective collaboration among 8 artists who have each created solo work to be performed by another artist in the company. I'll post more information about it later, but this work is something that excites me and I'm so stoked to be part of.

And although I am not going to London, England with Jessica, or anywhere exciting this summer, I'm still seeing theatre across southern Ontario; venturing to Shaw and Startford to see some great productions and I'll also be digging through Fringe, Summerworks and Luminato to see some new works.

So I'm back and I'll be writing every Monday and Friday on various topics including Theatre, Music, Movies, Travel, Community and anything any of my followers may want to read.

With love,

Lisa Alves

Someone Else

Kristen Thomson is probably one of the true Canadian gems we have in theatre at this point and time; acting and writing some really pivotal pieces. Her recent play Someone Else, directed by Crow's Theatre's very own Chris Abraham, was mounted at Berkeley Street theatre as part of CanStage's season.

Kristen Thomson allowed the audience to marvel at the different extremes people react when in moments of turmoil and crisis. Above all, Thomson gave the opportunity to the audience to laugh at the turmoil and crisis, as well as cry, grimace, and question.

The play centred around a middle aged couple, played by Thomson and Tom Rooney, who find themselves in a bit of rut. Peter (Rooney) finally finds something/someone to release all the guilt, frustration, and confusion he has held for over 20 years. With a teenaged daughter and Cathy's (Thomson) fallen stand-up career, the play is full of complexity and conflict. I basically just wanted to jump up from my second row seat and hug these characters that these artist were creating before my eyes. Performances by Damien Atkins and Bahia Watson were absolutely delightful and spectacular to watch because of their keen sense to detail in the complexity of their characters.

The tech and design complimented the piece to a 'T', especially Julie Fox's wonderful dry walled and cardboard box set. The production side of things brought out the tone and colour of the piece.

The run is over now but I'm sure we will be seeing this play around very soon... or at least I hope so because I want to thank Thomson, Abraham and their team for this beautiful piece of art I was able to witness.

CanStage
Website https://www.canadianstage.com/online/default.asp
Twitter https://twitter.com/canadianstage

Crow's Theatre
Website http://www.crowstheatre.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/crowstheatre

Chris Abraham
Twitter https://twitter.com/chrisjabraham

With love,

Lisa Alves

My Love For Soulpepper

I was first introduced to the spectacular theatre company, Soulpepper, in 2009 when I was dragged by my high school to see Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. I was excited, I was young teen going on an evening field trip with my much beloved high school drama department. The only thing was I didn't know what to expect. 
I remember watching the 1966 film with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton and being slightly impressed, but I didn't understand the importance and the weight of the story. That was until I stepped into the Young Centre in the Distillery District and headed towards the Baillie Theatre. 
I took in the stage that was in front of me; I was in the second row so I really had nowhere else to look, but it was a wonderful set. I didn't know what to expect or what was going to happen before my eyes. I was ready to be taken away as the lights dimmed and Nancy Palk and Diego Matamoros entered as the infamous Martha and George. 
I followed the story extremely well and found myself thinking "Elizabeth Taylor has nothing on Nancy Palk, this woman is amazing." I also found myself thinking "Diego Matamoros should always and forever be George." 

I was swept away by the design of the production and the whirlwind of the story I was taken on. I felt I was on a roller-coaster and I never wanted to get off, until I found myself crying at the sight of Martha's collapse. I was punched in the stomach in the most satisfying way possible. 

As I stood up to join the standing ovation of the audience I fell in love with The Distillery District, The Young Centre, with Palk and Matamoros, and will Soulpepper. 

That production was the first thing I had ever seen and said "I want to do that, I want to act, I need to create and be part of such a wonderful community." So I guess that was one of the first moments I decided I wanted to be an actor/theatre artist.

Thank you Soulpepper!

If you want to understand where I'm coming from, or already know what I'm talking about and want to revisit the greatness visit http://www.soulpepper.ca to see their new season of wonderful productions that are going to be just as mind blowing as Virginia Woolf.

You can also follow them on Twitter https://twitter.com/Soulpepper

And like them on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/SoulpepperTheatre?fref=ts

With love,

Lisa Alves

A Bit About Moi

I'm Lisa Alves and I am currently training to be a professional theatre artist. I currently reside in the GTA and I'm often in the downtown core seeing shows to enjoy and inspire me as an artist. I've basically created this blog so I can spread the word of theatre in the GTA and some thoughts on these wonderful productions and performances put on around the city. 

I won't constantly be talking of theatre, but it will be arts related (i.e. film, dance, music, etc.)

So whether you're a professional artist yourself, training, or just simply love art feel free to follow and visit.

With love,

Lisa Alves

If you're interested please follow on Twitter as well, its never a dull moment

https://twitter.com/LAALVEZZ