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.

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...

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.

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.

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!