The House of Fitzcarraldo Project

The source materials, as it now stands for THE HOUSE OF FITZCARRALDO, include the following:

CONQUESTS OF THE USELESS -Werner Herzog
ALL I NEED IS LOVE - Klaus Kinski
THE CINEMA OF WERNER HERZOG- Brad Prager
FITZCARRALDO: THE ORIGINAL STORY -Werner Herzog

The following films:

FITZCARRALDO- Herzog
BURDEN OF DREAMS
MY BEST FIEND: KLAUS KINSKI

The following songs:

"Fitzcarraldo" - The Frames
"Sudsy" - James Brown
The Cheesy Theme song from the film Fitzcarraldo
"To Dream the Impossible Dream" from Man of LaMancha (I see an frustrated and sweaty Brady Blevins trying to belt this at the audience with such anger.)

ENTRY 1:
Chapter 1 & 2 from Klaus Kinsk's memoir All I Need is Love.

Klaus Kinski's memoir is asinine. (Il ike that word. If anything this project is a study in the commital to the asinine.) I have read numerous reviews that suggest the entire book is a lie, a flight of fancy. But in reading it, how could it be anything but? His ridiculous, often grotesquely fantastic images, as a disgustingly poor child in 1930's Germany - bringing up rancid images of shit-water baths in the street, biting off the notes of a scroungy deranged mutt,sexual encoutners with his mother and sister. And later in his life, the constant and brutal sexual encounters with EVERY single woman he meets.

I do not see these as some longing perversion on his part, at least it's not as interesting as what I want to think: that it is not some more deeply rooted metaphor for his insanity in this ficticious memoir.

He writes: "My mother takes everything off in front of me. Her panties, too. Then she goes to the bed. 'Come to me,' is all she says.' For three days bombs blow the house all around to pieces."

Thris trim paragraph that closes Chapter 1 took my breath away.

These sexual trists are metaphors for the extremes he lived, whether real or imagined. This is what fascinates me so much about this larger than life individual - this man that Werner Herzog made a documentary about, My Best Fiend.

For instance, he on the battlefield during WWII for two days before he was taken as a prisoner of war - his memoir does not reflect this truth, or untruth. We get a story of him wandering aimlessly on the German front, trying to eat a live cow, and yes, fucking nearly everyone he comes in contact with.

Does truth really matter at all?

It is as if he is truly making it up as he goes along. I wish I could commit to my imagination in this way - without censor, any kind of censor in the representation on a thing.

These lies, these constructions, these imagined realities are of him. We are not seeing the man, we are seeing of the man I believe.


Some quotes that have stood out in the first two chapters that might find their way on stage:

"A person might think that I only lie around in bed and pass my time fucking. -That's not true. I often seclude myself from other people for weeks at a time, lock myself into my room, and don't even go out onto the street. During this time I do my voice exercises, ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen hours a day. Or all night."

-"What an honor," teases the meat inspector, making his rounds in the clinic, "to have such a great actor with us." I kick him in the balls.

-Why am I a whore? I need love! Always! And I want to give love, because I have so much of it to give. No one understands that I want nothing from my whoring arond but to love.

-I have to paint. I must express myself. Not like actors and pensioners or politicians do. It's mania. Obsession. An urgency, just like a pregnant woman having to give birth...I know that everything about life is erotic, everything that lives. I sculpt as well. Then I smash and tear everything up and burn it all.

-I never think of death. I haven't even begun to live.

Wow.

Pepsi Refresh Project

Last month Buran submitted a proposal to the Pepsi Refresh Project and today we were given approval! The Pepsi Refresh Project awards 10 projects $5,000 to get an inspired idea off the ground. Our submission "Involve Community via the production of a new performance" is now up on their website for voting.

If we get into the top ten we will be awarded $5,000 towards our 2010 Summer programming in north-east Kansas, which includes workshops conducted by company members free of charge to the community, weekly performances in Lawrence and Kansas City during the month of July and a full production to play in Topeka (venue TBA), Kansas City (Fringe Festival) and Lawrence (Lawrence Art Center) from July 22-August 6th.

Vote now at:

http://www.refresheverything.com/burantheatre?utm_source=email&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=good_luck

Pass this on to anyone you know who wants to help Buran!

Onward and upward!
Adam


Critical Acclaim for Buran



For Money Buckets!:

“The highlight of the festival. Pleasantly surprised and frequently stunned. . .an audacious act of creativity. It deserves to be seen.” - Robert Trussell, Kansas City Star

“The jewel in the crown of the Fringe Festival...flawless.” - Greg Boyle, KC Active

“Outstanding and seamless performances by the talented cast.” - KC Stage

For Meile be Akcento:

“A standing ovation and a sea of flowers for the actors showed that Meilė be Akcento placed the accents right where they needed to be. ‘A show is alive while it is still being talked about and while an audience is coming to the theatre,’ - said Vytenis Pauliukaitis. It seems that after the premiere of Meile be Akcento the audience will continue to come.” - Dina Sergijenko, Straipsniai

For Nightmares:

“Grand in scope...for what feels like a grand finale, [Buran] is digging where psychological horror and art history meet academic satire .” - Alan Scherstuhl, Pitch Weekly

For A Greater Release:

“With a cast of more than 15 actors...gives the audience something to think about while not neglecting the duty of entertaining. In short, [Buran] means to accomplish, all at once, all the things that professional theaters have such a hard time managing piecemeal.” - Alan Scherstuhl, Pitch Weekly

Dreaming can be a Fact in our Life

I’ve been watching a lot of documentaries lately. I blame my unlimited membership to Netflix and the instant play option for these late night sojourns into the fascinating lives of others. [Netflix directs me to "Understated Biographical Documentaries" every time I sign in.] I’ve particularly been fanatical about Werner Herzog as I’m in the midst of taking notes for a project centered on his intense hateful love affair with actor Klaus Kinski.


Werner Herzog and Klaus Kinski on set.

What I find most fascinating about the figures documented in these films, whether it’s Phillipe Petit in Man on Wire or Klaus Kinski in My Best Fiend, is the desire to achieve the impossible – to dream wholeheartedly, to believe in its possibility and to actually live that dream, whether or not it’s being recognized, supported or funded.

Philip Glass says in Glass: A Portrait of Philip in Twelve Parts, “People say, ‘I feel like I’m dreaming.’ And the reason they feel like they’re dreaming is because they are. Dreaming can be a fact in our life.”

Dreaming can be a FACT in our life.

Yes, I certainly agree with this. I will be the first to admit that 90% of my day is spent dreaming and acting out upon those dreams.

The notion of dreaming the impossible has always drawn me in. I say time and time again in rehearsals, a notion I garnered from someone else I am sure (I won’t claim credit), that our job as artists is to stage what seemed impossible. When I write stage directions I purposely write movements that cannot possibly be achieved on the stage – at least with the budgets Buran and companies similar to us are dealing with.

I’m intrigued and fascinated to see where this impossible movement will lead. I want the canvas to be as big and as sloppy as possible, with the hope that there might be some poetics in there. If not, there is the honest confrontation when meeting the impossibility of your ideas.

For instance, from Bournijka the Boxer (which will be premiering here in NYC in less than three weeks!):

BOURNIJKA comes out jabbing and punching.
ADAM goes in for a big old kiss – tongue prepped and all.
Bournijka punches Adam square in the face before the kiss can land.
Adam flies across the stage and OFF.

I see this as Adam literally being punched into the air and flying off the stage. This is the only moment this happens in the script. At no other moment does Adam FLY off stage. A literary manager, I am almost certain, would look at this and immediately, “No. I don’t think so.” Am I being stubborn for keeping this in the text? Is my constant day-dreaming deluding me?

I don’t think that’s even worth considering.

I feel very lucky to be the fool. The one with his head in the clouds and feet planted and scuffling about and around the stage.

The title track to Paul Simon’s album Rhythm of The Saints has the following chorus:

Reach in the darkness
A reach in the dark
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To glide away from the razor or a knife
To overcome an obstacle or an enemy
To dominate the impossible in your life

Dominating the impossible can only be accomplished by an act – and for me, at least, that act has always found itself achievable on the stage. As asinine as it may seem, I have no interest in staging something I have seen before, I want to tear apart and reconfigure the canvas each time.

How do your dreams manifest? Your aspirations? Your visions of a potential future that involve more participants than your own consciousness?

I want to know.

Onward and upward!

-Adam

Your Authentic Obsession

I was watching Charlie Rose last week as I was trying to put myself to sleep and he had half an hour dedicated to discussing the life and work of J.D. Salinger. Charlie Rose asked his guest Adam Gopnick of the New Yorker, who wrote last week’s piece “Remembering J.D. Salinger," what he learned from Salinger as a writer. Gopnick answered:

“I learned that the only thing that matters for a writer is not how clever you are – the only courage that matters is the courage to write the thing you want to read. Not to be afraid of the thing that seems to matter the most to you…the experience of becoming an artist [a writer] is learning to not throw out your authentic obsession, it’s learning to recognize your authentic obsession. Which most the time people don’t want you to write about because it’s embarrassing in some way – that your authentic obsession is your real material.”

This struck me as being extremely profound.

Your authentic obsession IS your material.

As I’ve been working in the past week on material for 2010 Summer Buran I’ve kept this notion close to me.

We so often try to ignore the material that keeps welling up time and time again- whether as actors, composers, musicians, designers - but by ignoring that we suffer the consequences of not doing the work that lives in us most fully, honestly, and whole-heartedly, in a way that makes it individualistic.

It got me thinking about my obsessions, like my obsession to figuratively meet Chekhov in my writing.

Or my obsession with familial situations. Or with the Marx Brothers. Or with Shirley Temple. Or Leonard Cohen. Or sloppy staging. Or people on stage with their mouths full. Or stark colors or no color at all. Or musical moments that have no place on stage. These are things I find myself wanting to bring into the picture time and time again.

Finding your true authentic obsession. I’m surely still figuring that out for myself.

I want to know, what is your true authentic obsession?
Do you find this notion freeing? Or ridiculous?
What does this mean? Your authentic obsession?
Is obsession the right word for it?
How can we share what is singularly our obsession. Is that selfish? Or is it selfish not to embrace it?

Talk amongst yourselves!

-Adam

Postcards

So my most direct reflection of the Buran Theatre Summit came from the postcards I wrote afterwards. See, I gave both my grandmas an empty photo album for Christmas with the promise that I would send them postcards from all the places I was to work/visit/tour in 2010. And my trip to Albuquerque was the first big trip of 2010. I'm sure I'll have more to say but I thought I would start a dialogue by sharing what I wrote on the postcards to my grandmas. Note: There were five postcards each, so this was not written extremely small on one postcard. Here goes:

Dear Grandma/Meme,

Here’s where this crazy postcard project gets started- Albuquerque, NM. I went down for the Buran Theatre Summit. Yes- this is the Buran of the Marx Brothers show this summer and the naked play from college. I picked up Erik at the train station at 4am and made the long trek to NM- a 10 hour drive. It was nice to get to some warmer weather and it was smooth sailing all the way down Route 66 and finally through the Rockies to arrive in ABQ.

Upon arrival in NM, we immediately fell back into our groove. With friends like these, it seems all you need is Lasagna, 12 bottles of wine, and a drum circle to reconnect (that’s what we did when we got there.) The next day was soaking in the slow paced Southwest with a nice relaxing drive through the desert looking at the beautiful mesas and an unfortunately unsuccessful stop at the Route 66 casino- Meme you’d have been proud. That night we had our first company dinner at the Frontier Restaurant for my first taste of green chile- something we had much of over the week.

The next days were filled with inspiring workshops, everything from Drama in Jazz, a Jam Session, Emotions in Movement, a Monodrama about Lewis and Clark, a Greek trilogy, and clowning. It was a nice reminder of why I love this people and why I love working with them. We are all artists and get the chance to create together. We also talked a lot about family mythologies in anticipation of the show this summer. I wrote one scene about Papa and another about Grandma Grace.

Over the week we had the opportunity to work with the Tricklock Company as they mounted their Revolutions International Theatre Festival. They were so welcoming and hospitable, having us to dinner at their place one night, a fancy kick-off party in downtown ABQ another, and even inviting us to perform in their Reptilian Lounge (more on that later). We also saw a play about the painter Jackson Pollock. The best however was getting to see an established company and how they work and meeting new friends from all over the globe.

The culmination of the summit happened at that Reptilian Lounge performance where we showcased a new short piece- The Buran Interviews. I even got to tell three jokes I came up with. Here goes: What did the Hungarian ghost do to the fly? ---Budapest! What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold? ---Sudafed! What did the lawyer do to the crooked FBI agent with a cold at nighttime? ---Sudafed PM! Pretty good, huh? The entire piece was really fun and I think well received. It was the great ending to a wonderful week filled with amazing work and some of my best friends. Although I’m of course glad to be back safe and to spend some time with you.

Love,

Brady

Out the window

It’s taken me a long time to ruminate over my week at the Buran Summit. I’m by no means finished. I wanted to write a response, but I got myself so bogged down in commenting on every aspect of it that it just felt impossible. So I decided to just focus on one subject!

Throughout the summit there was a lot of talk about the spectator and their role in Buran’s work. Not a surprising subject to be breached as Adam has written on it in Bringing Back the Spectator and Sustained Applause. But during one day of the week we had quite an in depth discussion on the topic. I contributed by sharing some experiences I had just had while touring with a children’s theatre company in New England.

While on tour we had many different kinds of audiences. Two “types” stick out in my mind. We went to many schools where the children were experiencing theatre or live performance for the first time. They were excited and curious, and they had no concept of what was “appropriate audience behavior”. On many occasions students would scream or cry. Some would shout from their seats attempting to warn a character of impending doom. Others would vocalize their approval or disapproval of the performance. Occasionally one would try to wander on stage. It was quite the experience for actors who are accustomed to seasoned theatergoers who know how to “behave”. But to be honest, it was SO invigorating at times. They were incredibly involved. They truly became a part of the story. And there was no questioning how they felt about the production. I mean, that’s supposed to be part of the beauty of live theatre-you get instant and firsthand reactions!

On the other hand, there were shows where we performed to complete silence. There were many schools where the students were threatened with countless forms of discipline if they didn’t sit as still as stone and keep their mouths shut. It was a sour experience. The air was just filled with oppression. We had no idea if they were enjoying it at all. We certainly weren’t enjoying ourselves. It really felt like there was no connection or shared experience. I was frustrated that the teachers didn’t understand that theatre isn’t one sided. “The audience and the actors feed off of each other. It’s a give and take!” I wanted to tell them.

These two very different audiences really got me questioning the spectator’s role? Does the responsibility stop at buying the ticket and showing up? I think, and many at the summit expressed the same opinion, that it goes beyond that. I know I like seeing a spectator that is engaged, responsive, and questioning what is in front of them. But just how active should they be? We came to no definitive answer, but everyone seemed genuinely excited by the possibilities and how we could implement them in future Buran productions. What if we made it okay for the spectator to walk on stage if they feel so compelled? What if we said it was okay for her/him to start commenting aloud or questioning the actors? What would happen if the rules of theatergoing got thrown out the window? Would the experience be enhanced? Would the story still get told? How would it affect audience turnout? Perhaps we should find out.

-Hilary

First Annual Buran Summit Wrap Up

The first annual Buran Summit took place in Albuquerque, New Mexico from January 8-17. After a successful season of performances in New York City, Kansas City and Vilnius, Lithuania we felt it was time to reconvene with old collaborators and new collaborators in an inclusive environment that would prompt new work and discussion.

In August, after the closing of Money Buckets at the Kansas City Fringe Festival, we invited over three dozen artists to commune in Albuquerque for a week to share their work and to begin a dialogue about the art we're making, why and how we're making it and how we might be able to support one another more directly.


Erin Phillips, Adam Burnett, & Erik LaPointe perform a piece devised from the Jam Session led by Jean Goto. Photograph by Joshua Efron.



Meg Saricks, Erin Phillips, Ben Leifer, & Adam Burnett perform a movement piece.


The week was full of workshops, round table discussions, and live performances of new works all over Albuquerque. Jean Goto of The Anthropologists (www.theanthropologists.org) came down from NYC for five days of the summit and led a Jam Session. Eric Avery lead a workshop that incorporated music and rhythm into finding emotion physically in performance. We joined the cast of "The Great Negocio" for a clowning workshop with Laurel Butler and company - where we all came to Confront the Audience. Erin Phillips and Casey Mraz stopped by to have a dialogue about their vision for an Albuquerque New Play development center. And Tricklock Company graciously made us feel at home in the midst of their 10th Annual Revolutions Festival, a magical international theatre festival (what brought me to ABQ in the first place). The summit ended with a performance at Tricklock's infamous Reptilian Lounge where we devised a new short performance piece based on a devising exercise we use in texts and rehearsals - The Buran Interview (see posting below). It was serendipitous that the summit week coincided with Tricklock's festival as we were talking with artists from Poland and Canada and all over the United States almost every night. We were working hard all day but definitely letting it all hang loose at night as we continued to discuss theatre and music and art making and community well into the wee morning hours.


Company devises new material. Brady Blevins looking on bored. Photograph by Joshua Efron.


We also spent a great deal of time developing material for the 2010 Summer Buran premiering at the Kansas City Fringe Festival in July. We looked specifically at personal mythologies and how they might be performed by the self or an other. There were so many vivid images and stories that came into the mix. A few that stick out immediately: Lara Thomas-Deucy's stories of her great-grandma, Brady Blevin's one and a half minute play "The Blevins Family Basement," Val Smith's tender stories of her dziadek, and Meg Sarick's hilarious mythologies about her aunt's posse of friends: crabby, old, drunk theatre patrons. We plan on employing the devising methods in the workshops we will be conducting this summer in Kansas and Missouri (and hopefully some of these stories too!).



We never got all participants in a photo. Three days in, after many people had come and gone, we brought the camera out for the first time. From left to right, (back row) Ben Leifer Adam Burnett, Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins, Erik LaPointe, Carter Waite, (front row) Hilary Kelman, Val Smith & Meg Saricks. Photograph by Joshua Efron.



We took a trip out to the Mesa one afternoon to view the historic New Mexican sights of La Ria Llamas and General Pinchback Mountain. Pictured: Ben Leifer, Hilary Kelman, Adam Burnett, Erik LaPointe, Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins, Jean Goto, & Meg Saricks. Photograph by Joshua Efron.


Carter Waite and Joshua Efron both brought in new material to share and discuss. Carter is currently writing a one man show for himself to perform. The topic of this mono-drama is Meriwether Lewis and Carter brought in a handful of pages to be read. What spurred Carter to invest in the research for the work was a general dissatisfaction in our generations lack of interest in seeking out adventure. "This play is about that moment - standing on the edge of the cliff before you jump," he said. Or as Justin Knudsen replied in response to that, “Or what the last day of your old life feels like before you start a completely new adventure."

Joshua brought in a sample from his ambitious project – his own three part version of the Orpheus myth. He first began working on the project as a response to a production he witnessed of Sarah Ruhl's "Eurydice" last spring. The more he has written though the more invested he's become, and he is pointing towards a three play cycle. Joshua intricately led us through some Greek Mythology 101 and his spin on these classical narratives. His breathless attack on discussing his work was admirable. It's so difficult to discuss one's work and it was remarkable to be in a space where everyone was open and willing and ready to respond honestly and generously.

Ben Leifer shared with us a composition he wrote for trumpet, bass, piano and drums using Buran performance methods. This was a mind-blowing session for many of us. Ben stressed the significance of rhythm in everything we do, but especially in performance. For a more detailed description of Ben’s workshop/discussion go copy and paste this into your web finder dealio: http://burantheatre.blogspot.com/2010/01/buran-summit-day-five.html

Or just scroll down and read the Blog entitled "Buran Summit: Day Five."


Erik LaPointe and Brady Blevins in rehearsal for Buran Interviews. Photograph by Joshua Efron.


Eric Avery as Justin Knudsen in "Buran Interviews" at Tricklock’s Reptilian Lounge. Photograph by Richard Malcolm.


Hilary Kelman as Justin Knudsen, Justin Knudsen as a Doctor Who Only Sees Other Doctors – "Buran Interviews." Photograph by Richard Malcolm.


Some quotes from the week:

On Buran workshops: “It’s about keeping body/mind in tune. The freedom to explore without limitations. Taking the felt and sharing it with others.” – Brady Blevins

On Buran methodology: “It is not the developmental process (i.e. devising, improvising to the text, etc) that makes it unique – it is the community itself. It’s an attitude.” – Eric Avery

“Buran equals a positive infection that we want to spread to everyone.” –Joshua Efron

“There is a release of ego and preciousness from the beginning. This is the attitude.” –Erin Phillips

“It has to be personal, this cannot be trained.” –Eric Avery

“We’re all here looking for new teachers in one another.” –Justin Knudsen

“Text is not sacred, but a performance is.” – I kept yelling this.

"[A move towards] structure in direction, not in expression." - Justin

"Crossing that line [between chaos and center] every time we get up to perform." - Jean Goto

"The expression is individual - but the direction, or structure, is the group." - Ben Leifer

""It's not the what. It's the when."- Jean


The phrase that was used over and over, time and time again was “generosity of spirit.” Everyone who came to Albuquerque made an investment – an investment to have the time and the safe space to create with others in a new community.
We received no grant support.
This was all made possible by hosts in the community of Albuquerque and the willingness for folks from all over the nation to stop their lives for a week to retreat, reconvene, rejuvenate, and reinitiate the dialogue.



Justin Knudsen as Justin Knudsen, Brady Blevins as Edward Gordon Craig –"Buran Interviews" at Tricklock’s Reptilian Lounge. Photograph by Richard Malcolm.


Buran in silhouette. From left to right, Brady Blevins, Meg Saricks, Justin Knudsen, Erik LaPointe, Jean Goto, Hilary Kelman, Ben Leifer, and Adam Burnett.


There were so many wonderful ideas shared at our first summit. I can't wait to see who hosts next year and where!

As we plan for our series of workshops and productions in the mid-west this summer we're going to keep a dialogue active on here. Anyone is welcome to join in and respond.


Thank you to the gracious hosts - Eric Avery, Mary Cianflone, Casey Mraz, Erin Phillips, and Julio Romero. You opened your homes. You cooked for us and with us. Everyone ate and drank and played and danced all over your homes and you egged it on. That's pretty great.
Thank you to Tricklock Company for your hospitality and true generosity of spirit. For opening their home, as they do every year, to artists from all over the world.


For everything Buran related – keep in touch with this blog. (For a bunch of
self-proclaimed Luddites, we’re doing our best at keeping up with the technological age.)

-Adam