[A.M. Azada] A Roomful of Waiting

It looks like we’re going to be busy till 2011. Here’s my share of conferences to attend. Some may include presentations.

For a recent presentation, click here for a video. Pardon the momentary technical difficulty.

I think Tori Amos’ latest hit Welcome to England is my theme song for the year. Last year, I was fortunate enough to win a research grant to commence PhD studies at Roehampton University. After six months, I’m ready to move to London, probably my favourite city in the world.

Follow me and my adventures in London on Twitter and Multiply. Some of my written work this year will be featured at the 17th International Conference on Learning in Hong Kong, in Inside DB and in a publication in Manila which I cannot mention just yet.

Get a copy of the book on Amazon.com for US$ 12.80 in time for the holidays! Click here!

I’ve uploaded my musical compositions on a MySpace page here. Enjoy your visit!

Come join Filipino writers, poets, journalists, editors, publishers, artists, media professionals, performers, actors and their friends to a reading of Jose Rizal’s NOLI ME TANGERE. 

When: Saturday, 20 June 2009 – 2 pm onwards
Where: 2/F The Peak Galleria, beside the view-deck staircase

Admission is free.

SMS 6712 7319 for more information or post a message below, please.

Part of the 4th Philippine Arts Festival in Hong Kong. More information here.

The 7-day run was a successful one, and the team would not have done it without your support. To our families, thank you for putting up with the late nights, the lack of focus while in your company and the endless nights in which we seemed to have internal conversations with no one save ourselves. To our friends, thank you for understanding why we had to decline your invitations to lunch, dinner, brunch or our usually frequented bar. To our bosses and officemates, thank you for indulging our attempts at being artists in arguably the worst time in financial history to play ‘pretend Patrick Stewart.’ To our beloved, significant others, thank you for being the inspiration of our tawdry lives; without you, our voices would sink, our spirits would weep, and our bodies would melt into sheer exhaustion. Thank you, Mr. Shakespeare, for a wonderfully written comedy; know that your play would not have been fully appreciated, understood and well-conceived until the 20th century, so we’re happy to be doing it in the 21st, which is all too willing to welcome it back to the stage.

To everyone who has lent a hand, foot, leg, arm or cuticle to this production, we humbly thank you; and we hope for your unwavering support in the next productions to come.

Dear friends and family,

It has been a long journey for the ensemble of Measure for Measure, and even now, I shall not warp from the task at hand. Many of you are witness to my anxieties, fears, joys and excitement at taking the helm of ‘Director’ of this wonderful play, and I hope that you would continue to support us (albeit in spirit) with your kind wishes and thoughts. 

I’ve never asked for this before, but please pray, pray  pray for us and with us. Thank you.

And to treat everyone here to a free ‘BACKSTAGE PASS’ for moment to moment goings-on tonight at opening night, I invite you all to…

FOLLOW MEASURE FOR MEASURE ON TWITTER!

‘It must not be ponderous; it must run like the speed of thought.’ – Ralph Fiennes, on the speaking of Shakespeare’s text in an interview on Inside the Actor’s Studio.

Vocal power is the primary skill this production focuses on–not facial contortions, or swift leaps and strides, or the spontaneous breaking out into song and dance, or the gasps and ‘ahs’ that naturally make for believable modern drama. No, it is not the ability to shout, because we do not shout when we speak of our darkest fears in private.

As Lucio says, ‘Dark deeds must be darkly answered.’ The sound of the dark is soft, still, almost like silence. Similarly, Shakespeare’s text must proceed like the gradual (Latin rhet. ‘gradatio‘) yet lightning-quick unfolding of a mood–the way poetry works.

The actors work long and hard on their iambic rhythms, the ability to sustain focus in one, long 4-5 line thought–the way a sonnet works–and their breathing.

The power of Shakespeare lies not in the actor’s ability to demonstrate (for that is precisely what good actors avoid–flinging out 20 hints when only 2 are required), but in the clarity of his words when spoken in an enclosure. To do this, the chest must be open, the torso made strong but not stiff, and the solar plexus activated whilst connected to the breath in order to achieve that ‘clean’ voice (as described by vocal coach Melanie Mehta) devoid of a singer’s vibrato, a child’s squeal or a teenager’s croak. I can think of Ralph Fiennes in his recording of Pablo Neruda’s ‘Ode to the Sea,’ Robert Stephens in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie or the beguiling Vanessa Redgrave.

This is why the ensemble is made up of people who specialise in finding nuances in the spoken word and whose voices are heard–and listened to–on radio and television, resounding with gentle persuasion and an almost seductive enchantment that draws you in without warning.

I must keep this line in mind. Funny how while Angelo and Isabella were quibbling away while the scene was being blocked, I couldn’t stop thinking of how the line really meant:

WOMEN ARE FRAIL. FULL STOP.

I hear echoes of Hamlet: ‘Frailty, thy name is woman.’ Shakespeare had just written and staged _Hamlet_ a few years before moving to the Mountjoy’s residence on Silver Street in 1604 where he wrote _Measure for Measure_.

Angelo later says, ‘Nay, women are frail, too.’ But he really meant to say it with a full stop. We shall see, then.

Visit Measure for Measure’s LCSD webpage.