Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company
Bacalao Performance Company

With a spring in our step

Posted by Marianne McGill on 4/13/2016
("A spring in one's step" definition: Enthusiasm, energy, or a positive outlook or cheerful attitude)

After 4-5 months of darkness and below zero, the brighter evenings, milder temperatures and appearance of trainers on snow free concrete defrost and boost new life into the cold Oslo population. Including 4 pensioners, who after a long winter are ready to continue their theatrical journey of sharing reflections, joy, music, melancholy and memories with new audiences in this small big city. 

With the support of Den Kulturelle Spaserstokken (The Cultural Walking Stick?), a communal funding programme supporting cultural offers and activities to elderly people, "Barna til Gerhardsen" ("The Children of Gerhardsen") are performing 5 new shows in senior centres around town. The first one happened this week at Bøler, Oslo East side. Well done to my lovely, likeable and life-affirming actors, who once again have succeeded in charming, entertaining and moving a new audience!


With a spring in our step we're moving on to new places and encounters. 
See you around :) 


Songs of summer

Posted by Marianne McGill on 7/3/2015
Summer has finally come to Scandinavia. The parks of Oslo fill up with trendy festivals, Japanese and American tourists and cameras, and the tanned and tanning young and beautiful (boys "accidentally" kicking their footballs into the middle of groups of giggly girls in shorts covering only half their bottoms) ... 

The streets of Oslo however are gradually emptying, as most Norwegians leave the city to head down to their cabins in the south of the country, or fly off to one of the sunny Mediterranean cheese, wine and olive-countries. With their pockets full of euros in case their Mediterranean paradise goes bankrupt while they're down there... Only a few suits and fresh mums with prams hang about the corner cafes with their lattes and cortados. Oslo is definitely on its way into a long and lazy holiday break...

But not everyone has somewhere they need to be, planes they need to catch, money they need to spend and legs they need to tan... Somewhere pretty central, a bit North East in the city, a small group of pensioners has just finished rehearsing choreography to an old Elvis song. They're having a ten-minute break before moving on to practicing a less known one, called "Solidaritet" (Norwegian for "solidarity"). If all goes to plan this will be the grand finale of the whole show. "The Children of Gerhardsen" - stories about community. 

I don't want to give any more spoilers than that. But let me just reveal that when 80 year olds sing, with trembling but crystal clear voices wrapped in all their lived life, that does something to you...  

Hopefully the lines, song texts, melodies and choreography will all be memorised come show time in October. If not, it will at least add to the authenticity. Ageing and remembering is, as is well-known, not the smoothest of combinations... But I promise it will be memorable, either way :) 


Eat, pray, love...

Posted by Marianne Lorentzen on 10/16/2014

It's time for a new blog. But instead of writing a new one I'm gonna post this old one. This blog post was "commissioned" to me by a wonderful, elderly Indian couple: Radhika and Banhwar. They run an eco-friendly hotel, Savista, outside of Jaipur, India, where I had the pleasure of staying for a few days back in April. These few days included amazingly instructive and inspirational conversations, and the forming of new, international bonds and friendships. 

Radikha wanted me to write a blog post for their website. talking about Bacalao and more specifically my last - and current - project "Sad stuff" ("Sørgelige greier"). As suicide is such an international problem, and a huge one in India, she was fascinated by and interested in our little theatre project, despite it taking place on the other side of the world. So here it is... A blog about India and Norway, and the bonds between us...  (At the end I've added on Radhika's own commentary/epilogue to my blog post.)

Somewhere in Rajastan...

A shaky Scottish/Norwegian couple has
just got out of a shaky autorikshaw after 40 tense minutes in
midnight darkness on the motorway from Jaipur, crammed, maybe almost
crushed, between lorries with much heavier load than the autorickshaw
carrying only us and our backpacks in the back (although more than
heavy enough for this all at once lovable and intimidating wee
vehicle, clearly not created for the purpose of transporting anyone
or anything on the motorway from Jaipur among lorries)... We pay
Kahn, the autorickshaw driver, a few hundred rupees more than
required, simply out of gratitude for not getting us killed on the
way. Out of confusion, desperation, relief and/or politeness we also
take down his number and promise to call him next time we need an
autorickshaw around Jaipur. We hurry from Kahn's autorickshaw into
Bhanwar's car, waiting for us at the beginning of a pitch black
country road off Ajmer Road. «We were waiting to hear from you»,
Bhanwar says. «We would have arranged transport for you from
Jaipur». I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Scotsman exchanging facebook details with autorickshaw driver.

While the young European couple in the
back tries to regain balance, strength, speech and smiles, Bhanwar
converses reassuringly. «So, you are Norwegian? I have friends in
Norway. An Argentinian actually, who married a Norwegian woman. Well,
he's not alive anymore. He was an anthropologist.» As the fear of
ending my life on the dark roads of Rajastan slowly diminishes, I
realise that this Argentinian sounds strangely but undoubtingly
familiar. Do I know him? No. But I know someone who knows him, or
knew him. And for some reason I am certain that this Argentinian that
Banwar knew is the same Argentinian that my father knew, and played
football with for years and have talked about many times. And it is.
There you go. A guy from one country and continent, who has passed
away, has suddenly created a bond, a link, between strangers of other
countries and continents, in the countryside of Rajastan. He might
have liked the thought of that.


                  Bhanwar and Radhika

I want to write about Bhanwar and
Radhika. How they generously, warmly and unsentimentally shared their
views, reflections and knowledge with us, on poverty, education,
culture... on India, while understating their own significance when
talking about their obviously admirable work in, with and for the
poor local community. But Radikha wanted me to write something about
what I do, about Bacalao, the small theatre company I run, that
started off in London, then travelled to Portugal, Scotland and Norway. She wanted me to mention
how I make theatre with «real people, real stories in real

I finished my Masters degree in theatre
directing in 2010 and started Bacalao Performance Company in London
in 2011 together with Sofia Marques, a Portuguese actress and Fado
singer. The idea was to develop a company focusing on the intimate
and personal, in terms of space and in terms of stories, and on
mixing together various cultural forms and expressions. The last
couple of years I have worked closely with my father who is a writer,
and writes scripts with humour and seriousness, based on people's
real experiences.

My most recent project is with and
about people who have lost close relatives to suicide. We use a lot
of dance as a kind of metaphor on life in this performance. It was
this piece that I was discussing with Radhika. I told her about the
project and the background for it: that in one of the most wealthy
countries in the world, Norway, with a population of about 5 million,
there are between 5000 and 6000 people that attempt to take their own
lives each year. About 500 of these «succeed». That's a lot in a
small country like ours. But suicide is so loaded with tabu that
there has been hardly any discussion around it at all, neither in the
media nor in other public arenas. Hence, it's also difficult to work
preventively with this problem, when it's not being talked about.
That's what we wanted to express with our performance «Sad stuff»;
the need to talk about this, suicide, but also more generally grief
and mental health.



                                          "Sørgelige greier" ("Sad stuff")

And of course this is not just a
Norwegian problem. A quick Wikipedia search can tell me that in 2010
the estimated number of Indian suicides were 187 000. There is
probably no direct solution to this problem or phenomenon, neither
here nor there. But we can talk to each other, listen to each other,
look after each other, share our experiences and learn about each
other, and try in our own human and fallible ways to support and back
each other up. In Norway, maybe because we are so privileged compared
to so many others, in terms of having everything that on paper
facilitates happy, fulfilled and free lives (money, peace, freedom,
education and healthcare for all), that to still not experience the
ability to feel happy and fulfilled and free becomes perhaps more
shameful and difficult to accept and live with than in certain other


                                               The Taj Mahal queue at sunset.

When it comes to Indians and their
national identity regarding living with pain and grief, I am
obviously not going to attempt to give any form of analysis after a
three week trip there. That would be ridiculously arrogant. But I
will say, on a different note, that what has perhaps surprised me the
most in meeting and talking to Indians, in Old Delhi, Agra, Rajastan, Goa and Mumbai, is friendliness. Friendliness and humour. Not that I
had any reason to expect the opposite, but considering the very
difficult circumstances that so many live under, it wouldn't be
completely unreasonable if people didn't feel the need to bother
about being nice and cool to a white, wealthy, ignorant pair of
tourists from very far away... But the smiles and friendly banter
from almost everyone, from our spontaneous and persistent guide in
Old Delhi (calling himself Peter), to the equally persistent
autorickshaw drivers in Jaipur (Kahn, Salim, and Salim Salim Kahn),
to the waiter in our beach shack restaurant in Goa (calling himself
Denzel), who worked 15 hour shifts and preparing for the season and
hence work to finish up, hoping to join a fishing boat for the next
few months, to the tourist families at the Gateway of India in Mumbai
wanting to take pictures of and with us, making us the attraction at
the attraction... Smiles and banter. Everywhere.    T
hat's a good reason to come back to


                The "sari shop girl" in Goa with the biggest smile.

My only regret about our trip is that I
didn't get to meet any elephants. After listening to Radhika talking
about the siginificance of the elephant and why it is so important to
Indians, how it is so big and strong, but still a vegetarian... How
it symbolises that you can be strong without it being at the expense
of others, without destroying others or the environment on your
way... How beautiful! 
I have a newfound respect and
fascination for elephants. I'll look them up the next time.

Well. Finally. On behalf of the
Scotsman and myself, a massive thank you to Bhanwar and Radhika, for
the truly memorable and inspirational stay at Savista! I hope and
believe that we will be back one day. And thank you to Eduardo
Archetti, the Argentinian, who without knowing it created a
connection between a Norwegian, a Scotsman and Indians, in Rajastan.



                    Palm tree transport...


                          Scotsman purchasing exotic musical instrument at local market.


                                       Goan folk dancers.

Chillies at the Spice market in Old Delhi.


                                              Sunset at Palolem beach - Goa


Our discovery upon meeting with Marianne and Rob on that dark country road
well past midnight, that we shared common bonds across three 
(Europe, Asia, Latin America) and five nationalities 
Scotland, India, Italy, Argentina), was heartwarming, 
many reasons. 

For us, it brought back poignant memories of our own unforgettable first
visit to Norway 
ago (when we could not have been much older than her and Rob). 
warmth and openness with which our common (late) friend Eduardo 
us. The exhilaration of intellectual engagement with the 
academic colleagues we met in the course of our lecture tour. The 
with which all the Norwegians we encountered reached out to us 
plied us with questions about India...After all these decades, our 
association with
Norway continues through ties of friendship. That wonderful
visit also 
long drives through silent forests where we saw no humans for 
of miles, beautiful fjords, blue lakes, apple blossoms, quaint
that retained their history but bustled with modernity, exquisite
and woollen garments, mindblowing concepts of design... 
much more.  Above all, a people truly in harmony with their
environment and 
took pride in keeping it pristine. The encounter made at least
one of us 
to be reborn in Scandinavia in the next life! 

Nevertheless, Scandinavia's
suicides have come up for scrutiny more than other 
also because they happen against the stark contrast of 
economic security. But if affluence brings suicides, so
extreme poverty - as the statistics Marianne cites from India show. 
health is a huge issue almost everywhere in the world today; it all 
on how willing a society is to introspect about it and craft
can deal with it. In India, health and social policies
brush it under the 
carpet. Both, because mental illness is not 'supposed' to exist in a
country of apparently strong family and kin ties (in the same way 
AIDS was never supposed to exist because of Indian society's 
emphasis on gender segregation and monogamy); and, because 
immediate issues relating to sheer physical survival of huge 
of the population dominate the policy consciousness.  Yet, 
suicides - and AIDS - are big problems here.

And yes, it is true - that ordinary Indians are a  people
given to 
and banter, and have always been welcoming of and 
towards "the other"....

Yes, there is so much food for thought... and sharing.. from communicating across
national - and cultural - boundaries.

Like, the fact that the Norwegian national independence day (recently
concluded) is celebrated with all the little children of the 
taking pride of place, walking in procession through the streets 
their cities holding flowers in their hands and cheered by the grown
different from many other countries which parade their armies and
their national day.

Or, that their approach to their own minorities - albeit a tiny proportion
of their population, that includes immigrant communities - 
to have a full-fledged Ministry to understand and manage this, 
by highly qualified anthropologists and other knowledgeable 
rather than only politicians and bureaucrats.

Or, that gender equality is a hard fought and realized ideal in their society,
but one that is constantly being interrogated and fine-tuned 
both women and men...

Hopefully, the Norway-India dialogues will continue...:)   Meanwhile, Marianne
has to come back for her elephant experience.  Hopefully, she 
visit Savista again, for we would love to welcome her back!




Less than one month to "showtime"...

Posted by Marianne Lorentzen on 3/6/2014


Less than one month to showtime...
Although it seems a bit too jazzy to talk about showtime, when the
«show» is with and about people who have experienced suicide in
close family and relations. It's called «Sad stuff» for a reason.
We won't be too upset though, if you choose to take this title with a
pinch of ironic salt. Cause it is not all sad. It's not an hour and a
half of sad stuff. Heaven forbid (?). We hope you'll have a couple of
laughs as well. We've certainly had some. When we develop our very
own (but very recognisable) «expensive, but I'm worth it»-therapist
and overly prescription-happy doctor, or when we do Christmas eve,
where the broken family insists on normality by drowning their
sorrows in wine and futile conversations about creme brulets and

Yes, we've definitely laughed, quite a
lot actually, in between the crying... Cause we cry. Almost
every week. I cry. Because my body reacts to the pain,
grief, struggle, beauty and strength that my four girls carry with
them and share, through music, movement, words and silence. It is not
possible to be unaffected by these girls. It is not possible to be
indifferent. The contrast of the mildness in their voices, faces and
caring nature, with the brutality of what they've been through, their
memories and emotions, are to me, again and again, heartbreaking.


The job that these girls do,
artistically and emotionally, with this performance, is quite
something. I admire them and I respect them, and I cry with them.
Can't help it.

Less than one month to «showtime»... I say «bring it on». We'll be ready.


November thoughts from Norway:)

Posted by Marianne Lorentzen on 11/17/2013

This time two years ago Sofia and I
were spending day and night in a flat in the Village in London,
working out and on a personal and intimate little performance called
«Sofia the Show». A show about my crazy and wonderful partner's
crazy and wonderful life.

This time one year ago I had just moved
to Norway, was living with my parents, teaching drama and English to
pubertal and frustrated teenagers in my old high school, not knowing
if this was the end of my short career, if bachelors and masters and
crazy sums of student loan had all been a waste, if the spirit of
Bacalao (and of me) would survive the move from busy, colourful,
cosmopolitan and financially fucked London Town, to calm, clean,
priviliged Oslo Town. It did. Thankfully.

It turns out that even in «the best»
country in the world to live in (UN's words, not mine), not everyone
is feeling «the best». That even in «the best» country in the
world to live in people have shocking, upsetting, moving,
heartbreaking and important stories to tell about their own lives.
And because Bacalao have never been driven by, counted on or made
ourselves dependent on the commercial business of our work... I mean,
we never sat down and said «let's see if we can come up with a
really good business idea here», and then concluded with the idea of
creating a very small, independent and completely unprofitable
theatre company... Because it was always from the start the desire to
use performance to say something about real people's real lives, and
not the desire to make lots of money (although that would also have
been nice), that motivated us, it makes sense that in the mix of
talented and brilliant theatre companies and practitioners, also in
Norway, Bacalao continues to aim to tell some of those stories that
do not make it to the front page of the papers, or the main stage at
the National Theatre.

A week ago the brilliant cast of «Veien
hjem går gjennom skogen» («The way home goes through the forest»)
had its wrap-party (isn't that what it's called in the hip film
world..?). A tasty and very well deserved dinner out. 

This bunch of
people has somehow managed to crawl into my heart and settled there.
All the magical moments that these guys have given me the last six
months, of joy, laughter, compassion, honesty, vulnerability, trust
and friendship have enriched my life in a way that I should not try
to explain too much, at the risk of something really special being
reduced to banal descriptions.

And as one unique project ends, another
one begins. Four strong, beautiful and brave women have opened up
about what it is like to be close relatives of people who have
committed suicide. Maybe one of the last taboos in a society where on
paper everyone should be able to be happy and we are better off than
anywhere else in the world... My dad (the writer) and myself have
been given the trust to shape these accounts into a theatre
performance. That is not a task we take lightly, but with such a
resourceful group I'm confident. «Sørgerlige Greier» («Sad
Stuff») will premiere in the beginning of April 2014. I'll keep you

So Bacalao Norway is going strong, but
I miss my talented and temperamental Portuguese other half. Hopefully
soon we'll be reunited. «My Own Cheating Heart» to Edinburgh summer
2014..???? Who knows.

Wherever the sea takes us:)


Here we go again

Posted by Marianne Lorentzen on 1/18/2013

What a stressful few
months it's been for the Norwegian half of Bacalao... New country
(moving back to old country), new flat, new part-time job taking over
my life, and taking the life out of me (attempting to teach drama and
English to spoilt 13-14 year olds on Oslo west side, who can't put
away the latest i-something (ipad mini?) long enough to let me
explain important things, like the answer to one girl's serious
question: «what is the difference between erection and election? It
sounds just the same to me...»), a newfound respect for all the
teachers in the world, and finally a new mac that I can't work
because it's two thin an fancy...

What a sense of relief and
joy to step out of the plane in Edinburgh onto Scottish soil, barely
catching the last train to Motherwell on Sunday night, and waking
up to a sunny Hamilton Monday morning. Four days of rehearsals later
the director is stressed about not being more stressed. My cast is
looking and sounding better than ever. I'm not meant to feel this
calm. Very concerning...

So, if no one fucks up
royally in the next couple of weeks, I guess we'll be putting on a
smashing wee show:)

At the Barleycorn, of
course, 30
th January - 3rd February, 7.30pm.

See you there:)


Bacalao goes "hotel entertainment"...

Posted by Marianne Lorentzen on 9/3/2012

After a long summer dominated by never-ending sports events, hard times for the economy (own and European) and one big move from London to Oslo, it was time for some Bacalao business. Hence, we're off to Tavira, Algarve to perform our wee piece Fado, Fatima and Football for a new, different and bigger audience.


Although slightly chaotic conditions, such as last minute change of venue, from fado club to all-inclusive holiday resort; bloody microphones; kids... finding it appropriate to scream, shout and crawl around on the floor between the performers (their parents should be fined!!!) and confused waiters tidying away our props, we pulled it off. When grown men in the audience are so emotional in the end as to be wiping tears from their eyes, the director can fly happy back to Norway, despite the discomforts of Ryanair.

Thanks to my beautiful and brilliant Portuguese friends and partners in crime, and to David! "So long... Marianne":)





de Tavira

Posted by Alzira on 8/24/2012
Querido diario,

Eu e a Fatinha tivemos de vir trabalhar no verao para o Algarve... As
coisas em Londres estao complicadas no Verao com os Olimpicos e que...
Aqui sempre se esta melhor no Verao com mais turistas. Sabe-se la quem
me pode ainda ver a cantar!... Tavira 'e muito internacional..!

A Fatinha esta mais feliz aqui mas ainda tem esperanca de conhecer um
guru do teatro alternativo quando voltarmos pa Londres... aquela tambem
ha-de estar sempre a espera... do Godot queres ver?? ahah fiz uma piada
de teatro eu... Ve la!

Entretanto tamos a ser hospedadas pelos guitarristas, sao uns amores e ajudam-nos sempre que podem...

Voltamos para Inglaterra em Setembro, de volta a dar perolas a porcos...
Acho que estou a perder ali... ou talvez devia de desistir. nao. Nao!
Desistir do Fado 'e desistir da vida!

E por isso na excursao a Lisboa que fizemos fomos ver revista do La Feria, sobre a diva a santa Amalia! 


As coisas no clube de tavira sao pesadas, muito trabalho de sol a sol,
muita loica e ha tantos fadistas que acabo por ser so mais uma... Mas a
Fatima tem estado em alta... La se poe com teatrices em Ingles e os
camones acham-lhe muita piada! A ver se ela se esquece do outro toino
porque estar aqui so fala em ir a Lisboa... Mas o que ela quer, sei eu!
Ele nao presta para nada!

Bem nao me posso enervar que se me prende as cordas, vou voltar a luta porque a luta essa... continua!

Alzira, 24 de Setembro, Tavira

PS fomos de excursao a Lisboa e tirei esta foto da Amalia em graffitti!



Posted by Marianne on 5/3/2012
"My Own Cheating Heart" is rocking and rolling at the Barleycorn. Two shows, done, five left. And what a kick start it has been, with GLASVEGAS in the audience on our opening night! They turned up 20 minutes fashionably late, i mean they are world class rock stars after all...but boy did they make up for that! The stayed after the show to drink and chat to all our drunk and excited team members, friends and family. what a bunch of lovely rock starts! And they even loved the show! "Emotional" was the word James Allan used... When asked what his favorite part was he answered " It's Absurd enough to sit in a pub in Hamilton and watch a 60 year old pub regular wearing a kilt and dancing to Britney Spears, but when he got his dance moves wrong and shouted "Oh Fuck!" that was just ridiculously funny!" Happy days :)

Ross has never looked more young and innocent in his yellow Hamilton Grammar hoodie than here, between two real rock stars!

Sean on the other hand, could almost pass as one of the band members, if it wasn't for his posy smile...

Sean and William Partying on after the premiere in some flat somewhere... That looks dangerous, boys. Health and Safety, and all that..?!


“Work 24/7. You can eat and sleep after the premiere!” (quote by my dad, the playwright)

Posted by Bacalao on 4/2/2012

First two weeks of rehearsals done.

Sun? Check.

Talented and lovely actors, musicians and interns in place? Check.

Pub regulars onboard and excited about the project? Check.

Promo film? Check. (link)

Beautiful flyer done? Check.

Fundraising event successfully carried out and money raised for the production? Check.

Communicating the message “fuck off!” to Creative Scotland? Check.

Actor’s court case admonished? Check.

Drinking? Check.

Eating? Not as much as I like to.

Sleeping? Hardly.

Tired? Check.

Happy? Check.

Ready to rock’n’roll? Check.


First Week of Rehearsals in sunny Hamilton

Posted by Bacalao on 3/23/2012

First Script Reading


I'm moving around....!

Posted by Sofia on 1/27/2012
Back to the early days of my stay in London - I have moved to a house I lived and loved before...
The new lodgers are inspiring housemates, so I often hear bagpipes from one room and banjo from another... My landlady (as she is amused to be known... eheh) welcomed us in, and our work started responding to the space and the space responding to us. This eccentric house is an experience in itself; you'll see!
Rehearsals are daily with no breaks, and I started a new super-duper responsible job at a bank! 
Flyers are printed and tomorrow we start distributing! 

Moving on...!

Posted by Sofia on 11/16/2011

A week ago as some long term friends of mine were visiting from Lisbon, we invited them to see the work in progress of StS.

“Are you sure you want us there?” Are you comfortable with us watching?”, they asked concerned. I was. After seeing their reactions, I think I was more prepared than they were. Axxx  almost couldn’t look at me during the play and started crying at the end. I can understand she would as she could relate to the play on a more personal level having met my family and been in some of its moments. When we first showed this piece in 2010, people who did not know me still felt they could relate and cry and laugh. Since most humans (neuro - typical) have high levels of empathy, even when one does not identify with issues and subjects being approached, one can still “feel” for the other and imagine themselves or someone they love in that situation.

I on the other hand, seem to have been desensitized… to well… myself. I noticed this when explaining to my director how I managed to work in this project that although auto-biographical still is performance based. It is performed by an actor so acting and performative concerns are present on this piece. We don’t just tell the stories.

We have blocked the piece into scenes and each scene has a different Sofia. So it helped me to refer and work on the different Sofias. We all are different people when we’re in different situations and with different company. These “personas” make up who you think you are and who others think you are. But what you really are?… Like QOTSA say “no one knows”.  With this working process I started to hear myself speak “Should we work on the Banking woman?”  “ I like that for the Blond woman, she is destroyed, hangover her faith is gone… so maybe coming without shoes?”  After a while you have to stop to listen to yourself talk about yourself!

As an actor I do have a concern to make these characters or Sofias true to what they were then because that has changed in the Sofia of the present. These characters aren’t fictionally created or devised however they are fictional in the sense that they don’t exists anymore. They are recreated and represented. So I don’t feel I have become a cold person or this desensitization has a negative connotation. I feel that as an actor’s work and a performer’s challenge goes, for me it is important I can keep that emotional distance.

Of course surprises happen when you are working on non auto-biographical material as well, for example when you relate to the fictional character or to a moment that speaks to the actor him/herself. Then an actor can momentarily “loose” the character and blend his/hers emotional with the characters’: that’s why you train and develop your methods- so you can make this distinction. However in StS when I do “loose” it, due to the personal and intimate nature of the piece I am almost allowed to do so.  

We decided not to fight it or control it too much with control acting techniques….and what happens, happens. In our process there is a definite decision of loose self-control, and a strong awareness of oneself and audience.



Moving in!!

Posted by Sofia on 11/16/2011

Hi all!

So StS project has started with the first step, which is the move! Leaving my current house even if temporarily, made me realize how much it will hurt when I actually leave it for good. It made me think that a time will come when I have to make this decision, leaving the Mews and leaving London.

All my housemates were away and I was alone all day just packing, sorting things out… Strangest packing I ever did… An eclectic mix of: Microphones, socks, projector, office suits, cabaret dresses, amplifier, underwear (sexy and casual), epilady, books, photographs, . Also had to take some personal objects and souvenirs to my new home to give it a personal Sofia feel and inhabit the space with bits of my life…. So in the end it became a bit of a hard day. On one hand because I don’t do alone very well and on the other it stirred a lot of memories and emotions… I hate feeling this vulnerable!

But I’m leaving to do something exciting! So chin up, beer in hand, trolley as big as me and a heavy tartan tramp bag! Sams cars to pick me up and take me to K’s!As it happens K had quiet a lot of cool parties this Haloween weekend, bess her…. So she was still out and about when I got there with my stuff to move… No worries I could do with a drink anyway! My first drink at the L**** pub with all my moving stuff! K eventually met me there a bit later and we had a drink together. As we left the pub to go to my new house, this guy turned to me and said “Welcome to England” hmmm patronising much? But hey- this is a middle class dictrict!

We’re renting K’s house and she’s moving out and making space for it to be my house for the next month and a bit. It was reassuring to be with K, as she can understand what I’m feeling. We’re both being displaced. We aren’t best friends, we know each other from friends in common… I think we liked each other as soon as we met but it’s no best friend relationship…yet!  So the amount of trust and open mindness involved from K here, is really humbling and endearing. Sure it’s a contract on both parties, it’s a rental of a venue, there’s payment but still… It feels very intimate very quickly.

Yesterday it felt a bit like I was intruding on someone else’s life, touching her things, washing up, having a shower… I could feel both me and K were careful on this initial approach. As when you tip toe around trying to see if the ground is soft as a cloud, or quicksand, or lava… we soon found out over a rom-com, a bottle of white wine and fish and chips that the ground was safe to step on. And then went to sleep.

K will be around tonight and show me the heater, electrics, tricks of the house, etc, we will sign the contract and then she’ll leave me and Marianne to it. Work will be so intense in this house from now on….

And life will be intense in this house from now on.