Thursday, October 22, 2009

Split Personality

In the November 2009 issue of Harper's Magazine, there's a terrific essay by Arthur Krystal, entitled THE WORST OF TIMES: Revisiting the Great Depression.

The essay quotes Morris Dickstein, author of Dancing in the Dark: A Cultural History of the Great Depression:

"Trying to grasp the essential spirit of the thirties would seem to be a hopeless task...How can one era have produced both Woody Guthrie and Rudy Vallee, both the Rockettes high-stepping at the Radio City Music Hall and the oakies on their desperate trek toward the pastures of plenty in California?"

Dickstein calls this the "split personality of Depression culture".

So, one week before opening night, when the inevitable questions rise about what we've created and whether we took the correct path of inquiry, this essay arrives as a good omen, a reminder that Canta y no llores is, at the very least, accurate. We've woven in all those multiple personalities, and thrown in the Day of the Dead to boot!

Woody Guthrie and Busby Berkeley? Check.
Political, sentimental and funny? Check.
Bilingual and bicultural? Check.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

The Horizon

Heading into technical rehearsals this weekend with thrilled anticipation. We're at the point in the process that resembles a roller coaster. We have rehearsals of active progress and joy, and rehearsals that challenge our spirits, when we know we've grown only because the rehearsal didn't kill us. Ironic for a dia de muertos show...

But now we jump on to stage, with our intentionally ramshackle set that looks a bit like a little raft floating in the middle of a vast ocean of trees. All the sound is our own, created by the ensemble. The props are antiques, the lighting will resemble the sunlight and moonlight of the woods, and the costumes a combination of Depression Era drudgery and Hollywood glitz.

Tonite's was terrific rehearsal, the actors took a gorgeous leap forward together, making their dances look easy, singing their songs perfectly in key, and remembering many of their lines, which is not an easy feat when working bilingually!

Watching the ease emerging from all their hard work, gliding into place like an autumn leaf floating toward the forest floor, not yet landed...

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Pictures from Photoshoot

Last Saturday, the cast, Olga, photographer Kenneth Aaron and I trekked out to Forest Park on a field trip for press photos. Here are some highlights (time permitting, I will continue to upload choice images to our Flickr account at http://www.flickr.com/photos/miracletheatregroup).


Thanks, everyone, for a fun shoot!






Final Art Card Image from Analee Fuentes


Here's the final image for our art cards, a HUGE beautiful new painting created by Analee Fuentes (see more of her work at http://www.analeefuentes.com/). She is generously donating the original work (3 by 5 feet) to the theatre, which will be on display in the lobby during the run of Canta y no llores. Thanks, Analee! We love it!


Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Think Black Tuesday was bad?


Well, what about Black Sunday?

So April 14th, 1935 may not have been as famous as Black Tuesday but it certainly left its own impressions (hence the poor guy's tractor you see to your right). Anyway, this site gives some info about what was going on within the Dust Bowl (and how it got that name) along with interviews from people who went through all of this mad jazz. If you look at the navigation bar, there's also some info about hitchhikers and hoboes who traveled by rail (all of which could apply to Mary, Consuelo/Raul, Eduardo, and Miguel). Anyway, give this site a peek when you have time!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Home Sweet Home

With so many people losing their homes during the Great Depression, many were forced to create temporary shelter to protect themselves from the elements, using whatever materials they could find.

"Shelters were made of almost every conceivable thing - burlap, canvas, palm branches." - a California minister's report of a labor camp in the Imperial Valley. We have seen photographs of shacks made from cardboard, framed paintings on canvas, crate boxes, doors...

Unfortunately, this kind of housing was the norm for the migrant labor camps where itinerant farm workers lived, from one farm to the next. For more information, read: Picture This: The Depression Era, published the by the Oakland Museum of California.

These shacks have served as the inspiration for our scenic design by Drew Foster; they are sad images of poverty and yet resourceful testaments to the will to survive.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Train Orphans

In New York City between 1854 and 1929, there were about 200,000 orphaned, abandoned, and homeless children living on the streets. Orphanages were built to care for as many children as possible but the need was greater than the resources. Once a child became a ward of the court, they could be "disposed" of as saw fit. Many became Train Orphans and were relocated across the country, traveling by train, stopping at town after town until someone took them in. Children were placed in 47 states. This mass relocation of children in the United States is widely recognized as the beginning of documented foster care in America.

Mary was one of those children who, surrendered by her own mother, became a ward of the court and was placed on a train going West.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

About the song "La Peregrinación"

Check out this PDF about the history of this song (also called "la voz del campesino"). It fits great for our era, and I thought it would be helpful to know what it is tied to as well in the 50s and 60s...

http://www.farmworkermovement.us/ufwarchives/elmalcriado/1966/April%2010,%201966.pdf

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries


Talk about capturing the spirit of Dia de los muertos!
One great song," lyrics by Lew Brown, music by Ray Henderson (1931)

People are queer, they're always crowing, scrambling and rushing about;
Why don't they stop someday, address themselves this way?
Why are we here? Where are we going? It's time that we found out.
We're not here to stay; we're on a short holiday.
Life is just a bowl of cherries.
Don't take it serious; it's too mysterious.
You work, you save, you worry so,
But you can't take your dough when you go, go, go.
So keep repeating it's the berries,
The strongest oak must fall,
The sweet things in life, to you were just loaned
So how can you lose what you've never owned?
Life is just a bowl of cherries,
So live and laugh at it all.
Life is just a bowl of cherries.
Don't take it serious; it's too mysterious.
At eight each morning I have got a date,
To take my plunge 'round the Empire State.
You'll admit it's not the berries,
In a building that's so tall;
There's a guy in the show, the girls love to kiss;
Get thousands a week just for crooning like this:
Life is just a bowl of . . . aw, nuts!
So live and laugh at it all!

Thursday, August 20, 2009

The Legend

Hey guys, Thanks for a great meeting. I think this production has real potential.

Here is the quote that I came across during our meeting today. I found it really resonated with what Olga said about the obligation of Family and our duties as the survivors.

"In our tradition, people die three deaths. The first death is when our bodies cease to function; when our hearts no longer beat of their own accord, when our gaze no longer has depth or weight, when the space we occupy slowly loses its meaning.

The second death comes when the body is lowered into the ground, returned to mother earth, out of sight.

The third death, the most definitive death, is when there is no one left alive to remember us."

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Mae Catrina (West)



What if our Catrina is a Mae West kind of gal, glamorous, whip-smart, and dead?

Among our band of itinerants is a young girl who wants to be a movie star more than anything else in the world. She dreams of the riches that fame will bring, she'll never be hungry or dress in tattered clothing again. As a child of the Great Depression, she's known poverty most of her life.

Mae tells her the score...

Friday, August 14, 2009

Artcard rough drafts















Here are some rough concept sketches for the "Muertos" Artcard. Your thoughts? More "dancing girls"? Feedback is appreciated! Warm regards, analee

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

La Chorina

Tremendous story, Rebecca! I am particularly inspired by the stories I heard of children who've been forced out on their own at an age we would now consider far too young. And yet, these children found their way ~ the resiliance of the human spirit! Would love to have a young performer in the show!

I'd been thinking that our chorine Catrina should be a figure from "the other side" but now I'm wondering if she isn't a young star-struck actress who's in love with the picture shows and dreams of Hollywood...

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

A local story from the 30's

I have a friend that today told me a story about her grandmother. When her grandmother was young, the family moved from California to Oregon. The family, of Mexican/Spanish descent, were rodeo riders. All the girls in the family were trick riders, and would travel the rodeo circuits with their parents once they reached a certain age. The grandmother, at the time, was determined to be too young to travel with the family to perform in a rodeo in California. She was left behind in Oregon. Disagreeing with this decision, she decided to leave and hitchhiked all the way to California and performed anyway. (She was born around 1910 and was a teenager when this took place.)

I found this interesting, another aspect of life of Latinos in Oregon.

Monday, August 10, 2009

On the subject of Migrants...

I just remembered the book, "Cajas de carton" relatos de la vida peregrina de un nino campesino. It's a series of stories/ memoirs by Francisco Jimenez about his life growing up in the migrant camps in mainly California, I believe. It's a short read, 123 pages. I believe it's set in the late 40's early 50's, but still applicable, I'd think. It might have been written in English and then translated to Spanish. The version I have is in Spanish. It's a moving book.

Singing the Migrants

Yup, Rebecca, I've found the same. It's easier to find information about the folks who migrated west from other parts of the US, such as the Dust Bowl, during the 30s, than it is to find stories about Latinos during that time. Thank heavens Tim located that tremendous article on Impact of the Great Depression on Latino Americans. Many Latinos, in California in particular, where "repatriated" to Mexico (even if they had been born in the US!). I envision a family that travels north to Oregon rather than risk repatriation.

On the bright side, I found a few stunning Woody Guthrie tunes! He'd been commissioned by the WPA to musically chronicle the effects of the GD...

Talking Dust Bowl Blues
Talking Dust Bowl Blues lyrics

Pastures of Plenty
Pastures of Plenty lyrics

Grand Coulee Dam performed by Lonnie Donegan!
Grand Coulee Dam lyrics

And this is a personal favorite, Poor Lazarus
...dead or alive, come up and see me, dead or alive...
Poor Lazarus lyrics

Thoughts on "Dancing Girls"

In response to Olga's post, I became intrigued about the type of Latino performers there were in this era. Needless to say, my initial searches have not revealed much. From a few quick research stabs, I have found that there were several Latino musicians during this time, but mostly on the East Coast, with a few in Los Angeles.

Then I began to think about Vaudeville. Vaudeville itself began to decline during the 1930's due to the increase in films and also the need for theatres to reduce costs. Some vaudevillians were able to recreate their magic on the silver screen. Some continued performing live, as their skills just didn't transfer to film. Some shifted to other types of non-performance work. And some just became unemployed, like countless others.

I then began to look for Latino vaudevillians, and I came across Imogene Coca. She was born in 1908 to performing parents (her father was of Spanish descent) and began dancing and performing at a very early age. An untraditional beauty for her time, she knew she would not be able to have a "standard" leading lady acting career. However, her career began to take off between 1934-1937 when she was recognized for her comedic talents. Prior to this point, she was still performing on the vaudeville circuit.

Here's a physical comedy bit she performed with Sid Caesar:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9wEj9aSZZZo&feature=related

At any rate, I could completely see a character styled after someone like her. (And I love her physical humor and the fact that it is completely non-verbal - always great for bilingual shows).

My dos centavos.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Back on the Rails

Now that the temperature's hitting 100 degrees or so, what better time to contemplate the coolness of fall, the crisp wind and drying leaves that circle around Dia de Muertos?

Met with artist Analee Fuentes last week, who brought with her a beautiful book of photos by Arthur Rothstein entitled "The Depression Years" (Dover Pub., 1978). Alejandra Gonzales is putting the final touches on our Study Guide as she translates it into Spanish. One startling fact: The Great Depression featured 25% unemployment nationwide. Talk about a call for resilience and ingenuity.

I see one of our biggest challenges with this production is, how to balance the inherent dire circumstances of the era with the traditional irreverance and comedy of Dia de muertos (a good question for Philip Cuomo, who had to balance the WWII-era in the same way). Philip?

My thoughts are, bring on the dancing girls! The glamorous chorines of Busby Berkeley music fame! Rebecca Martinez provided a similar balance with the 'Angel' character in Noche Eterna ~ but she was an otherworldly (del otro lado) personage, surrounded by similar clowns. Will our BB chorine be a figment of our imagination, or a star-struck migrant who's gone a bit west off Broadway?

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Employment & Gender

A tidbit from family members who lived through the Depression in Oregon:

Teaching was one of the most common and respectable professions for a woman in those times, but during the Great Depression a law was passed in order to stimulate employment. If a female teacher got married, she had to give up her job. The reasoning was that it would be of benefit for her job to go to someone else, instead of her two-job family. I wonder, what if she married someone who was unemployed?

Friday, June 26, 2009

Artcard Artist: Analee Fuentes

We have yet to hammer out the details, but we anticipate working with Analee Fuentes to design the postcard art. We'll be meeting with Analee later in July; until then, here is a link to check out her work, much of which has to do with Day of the Dead:
http://www.analeefuentes.com/

Also, here is a link to a recent media interview with Analee:
http://ethos.uoregon.edu/online-only/embracing-death/

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Impact of the Great Depression on Latino Americans

From NovelGuide.com, which in turn credits Macmillan Reference USA. Macmillan Reference USA is an imprint of The Gale Group, Inc., a division of Thomson Learning, Inc. :

According to the federal census, there were approximately 1.5 million Latinos in the continental United States in 1930, the vast majority of whom were Mexican or Mexican American. Cubans, Dominicans, Central and South Americans, and Puerto Ricans made up a much smaller portion of the total mainland population. Not included in this enumeration was the population of the island of Puerto Rico, then a protectorate of the United States, which numbered more than one million by 1930.

Although some Latinos predated Anglo-American settlement in what became the United States, many had arrived only recently. Responding to the desperate need for labor during World War I, and often fleeing unrest in their home countries, Latino immigrants transformed American cities not only in the Southwest but in the Midwest and Northeast. Hundreds of thousands arrived between 1900 and 1930. Mexicans, many fleeing the violence of the Mexican Revolution of the 1910s, arrived in the greatest number. Puerto Ricans, made United States citizens by the Jones Act of 1917, increased their migration to the mainland in this period as well, responding in particular to employment opportunities in New York City. Although Cubans, Dominicans, and Central and South Americans would not immigrate to the United States in large numbers until after World War II, small numbers of immigrants from these areas did form communities in the early twentieth century in key U.S. cities, including Chicago, New Orleans, New York, and Tampa.

Latinos were among the hardest hit by the economic downturn of the Great Depression. Although more established Latino communities had some upper- and middle-class families, most Latinos in the 1910s and 1920s were working class once they arrived in the United States. They participated in—and oftentimes formed the backbone of—a large range of industries, including mining, agriculture, and textile manufacturing. Despite their vital contributions to the U.S. economy, Latinos often were restricted to the lowest paying jobs, received less pay than their Anglo counterparts, and had highly limited occupational mobility. Their position on the bottom rungs of the economic ladder, combined with the ugly specter of racism, put Latinos at a great disadvantage during the 1930s. As the American economy soured and jobs became scarce, Latinos—who were perceived by many Anglo Americans as foreigners, regardless of their actual citizenship status—provided an easy scapegoat. In many states, Latinos were the first to be fired, as employers felt obligated to give preference to Anglo workers. In Puerto Rico, where the economy depended heavily on a small number of industries, unemployment rates skyrocketed even faster than in the mainland United States, reaching 36 percent in 1929. Not only were Latinos unable to find work, but they also found the doors of welfare offices and work relief programs closed to them, as increasing numbers of government and charitable organizations adopted a "citizens only" policy. In practice, this policy often meant "whites only."

MEXICAN REPATRIATION
Latinos of all backgrounds were on the move during the Great Depression. An estimated ten thousand Puerto Ricans returned from the mainland to the island between 1930 and 1934, hoping to find better opportunities at home. In New Mexico and Colorado, workers who had migrated to urban areas in the 1920s returned to rural villages, planning to eke out a living on the land, while in California, unemployed agricultural workers poured into the cities, seeking financial assistance. But by far the largest movement of Latinos during this period occurred among Mexicans and Mexican Americans who returned to Mexico. From 1929 to 1937, more than 450,000 persons of Mexican origin were repatriated. This massive movement of men, women, and children—representing close to half of the Mexican-origin population in the United States at that time—was triggered by the economic woes of the Depression and exacerbated by a rising tide of xenophobia. Repatriation was sometimes voluntary, other times involuntary, and often somewhere in between. The most notorious cases of involuntary repatriation occurred in the Southwestern states, where self-deputized Anglo citizens took it upon themselves to rid their communities of unwanted populations. These groups rounded up Mexicans and Mexican Americans, without regard for their actual citizenship status, and physically removed them to Mexico.

More common than these vigilante roundups were official repatriation drives, undertaken by city and county governments and by the Federal Bureau of Immigration. Local leaders in Los Angeles, shocked by the thousands of new entrants on their relief rolls, saw repatriation as an alternative to providing support for immigrant families. Insisting that paying for a one-way train ticket would be cheaper than providing welfare, county leaders organized train rides back to Mexico and paid for the passage of hundreds of Mexican citizens, and sometimes also for their American-citizen children. Between 1931 and 1934, more than thirteen thousand people rode the Los Angeles county repatriation trains. Similar programs arose in Colorado, Indiana, Minnesota, and Michigan, among other states.

The federal government also participated in efforts to send Mexicans home. Federal repatriation drives focused on all destitute aliens, although those of Mexican origin made up the largest percentage of those actually returned. Federal repatriation drives were largely ineffective: only 9,549 "distressed" immigrants, of all nationalities, were officially repatriated between 1931 and 1940. Tens of thousands of immigrants, however, were deported during this period. Deportation, unlike repatriation, entailed official government proceedings, and a charge of deportability prohibited an alien from legally entering the country again. The Bureau of Immigration capitalized on immigrants' fears of being deported, staging high-profile raids in public spaces and workplaces. In Los Angeles, for example, immigration officials raided a popular park in the middle of the day. Plainclothes officers barred the exits, asking all those there for citizenship documentation. Of the four hundred people stopped and questioned by the officials, only eleven Mexicans were taken into custody. The raid had its intended effect, however, as word of the event spread quickly among immigrant communities and intimidated those who were already facing difficult times. Not content to settle at large-scale deportations, the federal government also attempted to assure that fewer Mexicans would immigrate to the United States during this period by denying visas to any Mexican citizen "likely to become a public charge" or entering to engage in "contract labor." The enforcement of these visa restrictions, combined with the lack of opportunities across the border, effectively cut the official admission of Mexican citizens from 38,980 in 1929 to only 2,627 in 1931.

Some Mexicans and Mexican Americans did travel to Mexico of their own accord, without the aid of government or charitable organizations, but they were no doubt influenced by a variety of factors that made clear that they were no longer welcomed in the United States. Shut out of any gainful means of employment and, in some instances, from any source of charity, many of los repatriados had little choice but to return to their native land, where they hoped to find some support. The first wave of these voluntary repatriates tended to be better off; they left at the beginning of the Depression, able to drive in their own cars with their own belongings in tow. As the Depression worsened, however, the next waves of returnees were far worse off and had to depend on others to assist them in their travels.

Unfortunately, most of those returning found few opportunities south of the border. Anthropologists traveling in Mexico during the 1930s found that the return to Mexico was perhaps hardest for the children among the repatriates, many of whom were born in the United States and had grown accustomed to a different standard of living in the North. Those who returned to the rural areas of their parents had to adjust to new styles of dress, new types of food, and the dominance of a different language. The Mexican government sought to assist the migrants in a variety of ways. In the early years of the Depression, Mexican consulates in the United States cooperated with local governments in planning the repatriation drives. Inundated with pleas of help from unemployed Mexicans in the United States, the consul offices initially saw repatriation as a chance both to assist their fellow countrymen and to regain the valuable workforce that had been lost during the great migration of the 1910s and 1920s. Mexico paid for the passage of some of its citizens and reduced import taxes for the repatriates so that they could bring their belongings home. The government also established a National Repatriation Committee, which sought to resettle the migrants in colonies along the western coast of Mexico. Living conditions there were hard, however, and most migrants returned to their old home-towns instead. As the economic collapse in the United States turned global, Mexico's economy foundered as well. Frustrated with the government's failure to provide for them, repatriados in Mexico City formed their own union, which sought to lobby on behalf of the hundreds of thousands of returnees. The union was largely ineffective, however, and returning migrants had to rely on old support networks instead of the government.

SELF-HELP AND FEDERAL ASSISTANCE
For those Latinos who remained in the United States during the Depression, finding ways to support themselves and their families was a constant challenge. In many parts of the country, even those who were employed had to seek additional help, since wages dropped drastically as the economy worsened. Latino beet workers in Colorado, for example, saw their wages shrink from $27 an acre to $12.37 in just three years. Seeking to supplement the meager family income, Latinas entered the industrial workforce in unprecedented numbers. Teenage daughters were typically the first to go to work, but mothers and grandmothers sometimes followed suit. From pecan shelling factories in San Antonio to garment districts in New York, one could find generations of immigrant women working side by side. Although they struggled with poor working conditions and extremely low pay, women often were able, through their work, to keep their families afloat. Their experiences in the workplace, which allowed them to experience life outside of typical gendered roles, also helped contribute to a nascent Latina women's movement, which would mature after World War II.

When even the multifamily income proved insufficient, many Latinos fell back on ethnic mutual aid societies, or mutualistas, for assistance. Self-help in Latino communities ranged from highly organized, structured groups like the Cruz Azul (Blue Cross) to informal groups of women banded together to sell tamales at cost to unemployed workers. In cities with long-standing middle-class Latino populations, such as Los Angeles and New York, the mutualistas were able to provide some modicum of relief. But in most other towns, the support quickly ran out as benefactors lost their wealth. Latinos then turned to local, state, and federal governments for assistance. Latinos participated in a wide range of federal relief programs under the New Deal. Social security, labor reforms, and housing assistance all benefited Latino families. New Deal welfare relief programs also protected Latinos by insisting that all funds be distributed without discrimination based on citizenship status. Some programs were targeted specifically towards Latino communities, such as the Hispanic arts revival in northern New Mexico, which sought to teach traditional crafts to the local populace as a means of both cultural and financial survival. Other programs retained a majority of Latino workers by default, such as large-scale construction projects that drew on already experienced Latino labor. An estimated 100,000 Mexican nationals alone participated in New Deal work programs in the western states.

As with other racial/ethnic minorities, however, the New Deal left an ambivalent legacy among Latinos. Despite federal efforts to insure that immigrants could find welfare assistance, some state governments continued to turn Latinos away. In 1937 Congress, following a trend already established by the states, declared that all programs of the Works Progress Administration (WPA) would be closed to aliens. The "citizens-only" policy of the WPA extended even to companies that fulfilled government contracts; corporations such as General Motors fired those whom they perceived as foreigners to keep from losing lucrative government business. Southwestern craft programs that sought to preserve Hispanic villages in reality left many with skills that could not sustain them in an increasingly industrialized nation. In Puerto Rico, the targeted programs of the Puerto Rico Emergency Relief Program provided some aid, but they also paid lesser wages than similar programs in the mainland United States. In sum, Latinos both benefited from and were scarred by their experiences with the New Deal.

POLITICS AND THE GROWTH OF ETHNIC IDENTITY
Desperate times served to politicize many Latinos, both in the workplace and at home. Workers of all backgrounds, united by the trials and tribulations of the Depression, engaged in an unprecedented amount of labor organizing in the 1930s, seeking reforms in wages, hours, and other conditions of employment. In 1934 alone, union membership doubled, and there were more than 1,800 strikes nationwide. As the backbone of the agricultural and manufacturing sectors in some parts of the United States during the 1930s, Latinos provided the union rank and file in many labor disputes, especially in the heavily Hispanic states in the Southwest. Entire families participated in labor activities, helping to staff the picket lines, provide food for strikers and their kin, and lobby local officials. Notably, Latinos also emerged as labor leaders during this period, helping to organize farm workers in California, pecan-shellers in Texas, and steel workers in Illinois, to name just a few.

The scarcity of resources during the Depression did pit some Latinos against each other. Those who were American citizens fought hard to assert their right to all the benefits of citizenship. They sought to differentiate themselves from more recent Latino immigrants who bore the brunt of the "Americans only" policies in this period. On the whole, however, the struggles of the Depression era contributed to a more unified sense of ethnic identity among Latinos. Even relatively conservative Latino groups were forced to recognize that they shared a common fate with the foreigners in their midst. The indiscriminate enforcement of "no aliens" policies, capturing not only undocumented Mexican migrants but also long-standing Latino citizens of the United States, served to raise the consciousness of many Latinos. Second- and third-generation Latino Americans, who had previously argued for restricted immigration and increased deportations, had a change of heart when they themselves suffered harassment and discrimination at the hands of government officials. Those who remained in the United States during these years realized the tenuousness of their membership in the national community, no matter how long they had lived in the country or how much they had given of themselves and their resources.

This new sense of communal identity, born out of repression, led to greater political mobilization. Although a rich variety of local and regional Latino organizations had emerged earlier in the century, it was not until the Depression era that national Latino groups came to prominence. Such groups included the League of Latin American Citizens (LULAC), founded in Texas in 1929, and El Congreso de Pueblos que Hablan Español (The National Congress of Spanish Speaking Peoples), established by Guatemalan-American labor leader Luisa Moreno in 1937. Increasingly, Cubans, Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, and other Latinos came together to fight for a range of civil rights, not only in the workplace but also in courts, schools, and places of public accommodation. Although it would take the massive post-1965 immigration to establish a strong panethnic Latino identity, the seeds of this change were planted during the hard times of the 1930s.

BIBLIOGRAPHY
Balderrama, Francisco E., and Raymond Rodríguez. Decade of Betrayal: Mexican Repatriation in the 1930s. 1995.

Blackwelder, Julia Kirk. Women of the Depression: Caste and Culture in San Antonio, 1929–1939. 1984.

Carreras de Velasco, Mercedes. Los Mexicanos que Devolvió La Crisis, 1929–1932. 1974.

Forrest, Suzanne. The Preservation of the Village: New Mexico's Hispanics and the New Deal. 1989.

Hoffman, Abraham. Unwanted Mexican Americans in the Great Depression: Repatriation Pressures, 1929–1939. 1974.

Jaffe, A. J.; Ruth M. Cullen; and Thomas D. Boswell. The Changing Demography of Spanish Americans. 1980.

McKay, R. Reynolds. "The Federal Deportation Campaign in Texas: Mexican Deportation from the Lower Rio Grande Valley during the Great Depression." The Borderlands Journal 5, no. 1 (1981): 90–120.

Rodríguez-Vásquez, Manuel R. "Power and Development: The Puerto Rican Emergency Relief Administration and the Emergence of a New Colonial Order." Ph.D. diss., Temple University, 2001.

Ruiz, Vicki L. Cannery Women, Cannery Lives: Mexican Women, Unionization, and the California Food Processing Industry, 1930–1950. 1987.

Sánchez Korrol, Virginia E. From Colonia to Community: The History of Puerto Ricans in New York City, 2nd edition. 1994.

Sánchez, George J. Becoming Mexican American: Ethnicity, Culture, and Identity in Chicano Los Angeles, 1900–1945. 1993.

Thatcher, Mary Anne. Immigrants and the 1930s: Ethnicity and Alienage in Depression and On-Coming War. 1990.

ALLISON BROWNELL TIRRES

A Starting Point

Hi everyone ...

As another way to get started, here's the very simple framework we've used to describe the show in the season brochure:

Every fall, the dead are commemorated in a lively show of dance, music and theatre in Portland’s longest-running Day of the Dead celebration. This year, in honor of Oregon’s 150th birthday, los muertos return singing familiar tunes that hearken back to another era when times were tough and tradition was one of the few things folks could call their own. Even as we shed one way of life for another, the spirit endures and we remember the only thing to fear—in life or death—is fear itself.

Cada otoño, los muertos son conmemorados en una animada presentación de baile, música y teatro en la mayor celebración del Día de los muertos en Portland. Este año, para celebrar los 150 años del nacimiento de Oregon, los muertos regresan cantando una tonada más tradicional que nos evoca otra era de tiempos difíciles donde la tradición era una de las pocas cosas que la gente podía contar como propias. Aún cuando cambiamos una forma de vida por otra, el espíritu permanece y recordamos que lo único por temer—en la vida o en la muerte—es el mismo temor.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Muertos Launched

Welcome to the blog that discusses the making of Miracle's Muertos 2009: Canta y no llores. We'll chronicle the brainstorming that happens around the office, in our production meetings and throughout the rehearsal process.

Canta y no llores will reflect upon the Great Depression in Oregon in the 1930s, and migration from other parts of the country (the Dust Bowl) and from Mexico, to express dia de muertos. When all is lost, what remains? What's truly valuable in life? And, in the irreverant spirit of muertos ~ what are you laughing at?

So far, we've talked about old-time music, and learned that Woody Guthrie was invited by the Bonneville Water Project to write songs about Oregon. We've talked about migrant workers, and learned that they came from all over, that the migrant camps of the 1930s were very diverse communities. And I started looking at Busby Berkeley music videos (or rather, movie excerpts on YouTube! We're in the money!

In closing this inaugural post, I offer an excerpt from "Oregon: End of the Trail" compiled by Oregon's Workers of the Writers' Program of the WPA, published in 1940:

"At once the hero and the villain of the early Oregon piece, the Cascade Range still imposes a dozen divergent viewpoints upon the modern state: and it is therefore unlikely, if not impossible, that there may be any such thing as a typical Oregonian."

Up until this point I'd been thinking of the set for the production in terms of a migrant shack, but now I'm imagining mountains...