Chicano Theater Alive in Alpine TX

Chicano Theater Alive in Alpine TX

When I arrived in Alpine, Texas this past Sunday, one of the first things that my host said to me was, "I got t-shirts for you." This would be the third one that I have received from Dona Roman, director of The Theater of the Big Bend. Additionally, this will be the third year that they have produced one of my plays. But this t-shirt was different. It was black with a skull in grey, almost invisible, with the words Chicano Theater in big white letter on the front. It was a phrase that I had not seen nor heard in a while. The skull struck me as apropos: Chicano Theater is a phrase whose meaning had been nearly dead to me for a while.
When I first heard the phrase Chicano theater, it was tied to a movement that included many different people and disciplines. I honestly would have a hard time trying to give you a history of the word and the movement, but for me, being a theater artist, it was easy to define it back then. Chicano theater was street theater, Guerilla Theater, Farm Worker Theater, political theater, theater for social change. It was done by people who were more interested in changing society than changing costumes or being good actors, writers, or theater artists. And that was fine for a while. Then two things happened to me that changed the way that I defined "Chicano theater".
One was the realization that our audiences were the same show after show. When we performed in LA, the SF and SD audiences would be there. When we performed in SD, the LA and SF audiences would be there, etc. etc. There was positive side to this: great parties. But the negative side was that we were beginning to stagnate. We were not growing our audiences so our message was becoming redundant. We wanted the message to reach larger audiences. So most of us stopped doing theater and became politicians, teachers, or lawyers or we worked to make the message stronger.
It took us some time to realize that what we really needed was to strengthen the messengers. The message has not changed that much or not at all. There still exists racism, job and educational discrimination, sexism, worker exploitation, poverty, and on and on. The Supreme Court ruled recently that white firefighters had been discriminated against by their city in promotional practices. I thought I had it bad, but when white people are being discriminated against, then no one is safe. Oh, wait, we have never been safe from discrimination (I know a lot of my people who think these are things of the past.)
Back to the message. We soon realized that strong writing, excellent acting, and creative directing only strengthened the message. That it was okay to write about things that weren't 100% political. This really didn't mean we stopped being Chicano theater; it meant that we began to grow beyond our identity as a group of committed people who just wanted to use a play as a vehicle for their cause. And who didn't mind if that vehicle was ever maintained or even ran again.
Second, we realized that the word Chicano was beginning to limit our thinking. It seemed to isolate us in a world where our Mexican heritage was separated from our Puerto Rican, Cuban, Central, South American, African, and European brothers and sisters. There was a shared language, culture that begged to be included in our thinking. It occurred to me personally that I had always been told that I was a minority in America. Then with a change of thinking, I suddenly belonged to the majority. I let Chicano go.
So here I was staring at a t-shirt. Wondering why they hadn't put my play's name on it. (Am I revealing too much about myself?) What I didn't know was that in a moment I was about to undergo another change.
The first cast activity for the production in Alpine was a potluck lunch to introduce Jojanie Segura and me to the rest of the group. This was to happen within an hour of getting my t-shirt. This group had already begun rehearsals and we were to join them for the last two weeks before our opening. The energy in the room was amazing. Here were seven amazing actors. Excited to be meeting us, excited to be getting ready for the last weeks of rehearsals, excited to be bring what they called "Chicano theater" to their community. A theater that they related to, a theater that spoke to their parents. It seems that the groundwork that has been laid for the past two years is now paying off. This group of actors is solid. They are talented and dedicated to their craft. So something old can be new again. Chicano theater has been reborn here. I too have joined in this energy and can't wait for opening night. They are at the same point I was years ago.
An added note, Dr. Jorge Huerta was one of the if not the biggest influence on me in regard to "Chicano Theater". He is going to be here next week to meet with the actors in "Petra's Sueño". I had thought that my style of theater would die with me, but suddenly it looks like it just might be given a fresh start.

Rupert Reyes

The Spirit and the Soul in Theater 6.23.09

For years I have enjoyed boggling minds and baiting my friends with the question: "What is the difference between the soul and the spirit?" I have yet to get an answer that is really satisfying until recently. I did reach a little peace (but really will never know when I get the answer, if there is one) when I distilled it to this: the spirit is to the soul as the flesh is the body.

Here we could begin a lifelong discussion about souls, spirits, life, death, etc. But we won't. Instead we'll move on to talk about theater, which is probably why you're reading this anyway. I tend to connect discussions of spirit, soul, and theater because the theater is my temple, the stage the altar. It is here that I "nourish" my spirit to strengthen my soul. And it is here that I commune with God.

Obviously I am not an atheist. I am not a churchgoer either. Yet when I walk into a theater, I do so with the same reverence that you would enter any place of worship. I wish they would place some water at the entrance to cleanse one's feet prior to entering. Of course all they usually do is place a wastebasket for the empty coke cans, chip wrappers or programs to be deposited after the show. And that's important, that's important.

I like being the first to enter the theater when we are preparing for a show. I enjoy walking into the empty space that is just a venue at first, but will soon be transformed into a living room, a park, a desert, and any place you can imagine. What a wonderful space that is. I usually lie on my back, close my eyes and do a yoga corpse pose to listen to the sounds this wonderful space makes. How many different shows have been here, how many different audiences have laughed, cried, cheered or remained silent (at the wrong time) in this space.

I believe that some of that energy, that spirit remains in these spaces. Not as ghosts, but as a sum of the hard work, the love, the passion, the paint on the floor, and the gouges from the dropped props that were brought into the space by many, many actors, designers and crews. These are the marks, the "sum" of what has been created here. Some great works, some not so great works, (but is the passion, the love, and the hard work any less? I think not.) So lying on the floor puts me, in my own way, in contact with the past, as I prepare for the future.

Then the designers arrive with their crews. The lights are moved and positioned, the scenery unloaded, assembled and painted, the props and costumes, and the sound cues are played for the first time, adjusting their levels. The place has come to life. The spirits are present.

Later, the actors add their presence and their souls to the mixture. Voices trying to establish themselves in the space that at one time belonged to other voices. All of the above being done in preparation for one last piece of the ritual; the audience.

I love audiences. They are different every night. No matter how many they may be, they become one as the curtain lifts. Their energy, that is clearly felt on the stage either powers the actors or sucks them dry. But in this whole space, for the time that the performance is happening, there is a unity between all these elements that is to me spiritual, a gift of God. Lifting all the souls in this space, creating that community, and this is when I realize that we are one and the same. That if we can continue that recognition after the curtain closes, after that trashcan is full of empty cans, candy wrappers and crumpled programs we would all be much better for each other. This is one of the reasons I do theater. This is one of the reasons I love it so much.