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About POSTPARTUM, Laura Gutman, Ignacio Apolo and Florence La Rosa

On Sunday September 5 POSTPARTUM be released, by Laura Gutman, Ignacio Apolo and Florence La Rosa-dir. Ignacio Apollo, Teatro Del Nudo (Corrientes 1551 / reservations to 4373-9899). Sundays at 18 pm.

previous hours
I know there is someone there, on the other side. The reader of this blog, which sometimes is expressed briefly and with respectful affection. The reader who runs the right column looking for an image associated with the work he saw or will see. The reader who looks at the photos, he who asks, speculating whether or not I liked the work for which I write. The reader colleague, I returned his gaze and his word. The reader is moved to ask me, after reading the review dark About King Lear, how is the little moon. And that reader in an office on the first floor of the School of Drama said, looking into my eyes, "I am moved by how you write about your women. " Anyone out there, on the other side.

On this side, that's me ... and my women, both the small and large, they are both the big and small. From them, with me, to you who are there, I want to bridge. And that bridge is Postpartum .

women
My Moon had just over a month and a half. It was a midday and late autumn sun streamed obliquely on the bed in the family room of a newborn baby, blankets. Caro was asleep, as I was sleeping at that time, during periods of postpartum altered. Moon, beside her breathing and feeling, and I ... With this laptop in bed, I received an email from Florence La Rosa inviting me to work with Laura Gutman on writing a book on motherhood.

Flor said: "Gutman is the most important therapist specializing in this subject, and has 3 very successful books published in Argentina, Spain and Uruguay." He added: "I do not want to put in an undertaking, so good if you think you do not get or do not you feel like now, really."

...

never asked me why I wrote this mail to me. Why a man . why this man . Why just this afternoon nap and postpartum ...

Now, in the distance, I guess it was written, as the irrevocable future mutations. Two days after that e-mail, May 30, 2008, I gave my last kind of publicity and gave up university teaching that I had held for fifteen years. Quit with a newborn baby in her arms, with a woman on maternity leave that would extend five months without pay. And I sold the car. And I prayed to the protection of the White Goddess (who by then was born, as well as a blog). And I plunged into the vertigo of dedication to the theater.

My women were there. Both. That

Luna sleeping in the picture with my girl now learned to speak, and at night he says "Dad's' n the tiatro; daddy 'tá' nsayando."

The story of this love is about to give birth. Postpartum

any work I never took much effort, pain, madness. Those who know me know it. Maybe that was also written.

The following is a preview of the text that will print, as co-author and director, in the playbill. From here until my postpartum mid-September, may not be able to write many more reviews on this blog. About

I often read me understand. I'm with my girls, bridging.

Until then.

...

The story that no one has (on Postpartum)
is said that the "best stories ever told" is summarized in the motto boy meets girl Hollywood (a boy meets a girl) and always end with the final kiss of the protagonists, never with the vicissitudes of living.

also the stories of hope and the pursuit of motherhood at the end birth, never in the first months of parenting. The post is not interested in traditional discourse: the birth scene is light, what follows is silence ...

Postpartum is a play about the silence. It is our commitment to love, art and politics: put the body on stage to show that experience. The mother and her baby, the baby and adults.

The voice of the male and the male world
Postpartum is a work for adults who can be good parents (or not), mothers (or not). We were all babies. What we do with them is the big question with which humanity is played incessantly destination. Ours is not a book for mothers or for women who remove the men from the scene. It's simply the way we have to find out what sailing waters deeply human female, but with the crucial presence of the voice of our men and their world, which is, like women, ours.

Gas With Hydrocodone Withdrawal

About AURELIANO, Román Podolsky

On Saturday I went to see AURELIANO, Román Podolsky, the Abasto Social Club (Humahuaca 3649 / 4862 7205) Saturday at 21.

box
In 1997, at the legendary Alley of Wishes, Luis Machin and Alejandro Catalán, under the leadership of Omar Fantini, premiered a bizarre piece of theater would become a classic tested by a curious section in my view, unprecedented: his age, over the years, the renamed under another name. The work in question was on two lovable characters body language and broken, which dealt in a box that once housed a refrigerator, to reconnect an appliance-probably a TV aerial. Due to a short, one of them went to another dimension to the beyond, "and from there on stage remained attached. The play was called Near East and, personally, ever since I saw two actors conceived and executed with such precision alternative language for such effectiveness. Only sparkle in my memory, for various reasons, always celebratory-a fragment of Several pairs of feet above the marble floor (that version of Pinter's works adapted Rafael Spregelburd a year earlier, at the Centro Cultural Borges, with the ineffable Machin's protagonist), in which Luis was playing, dressed in a tuxedo, a sort of ping pong with tennis ball. Also a fragment of fishing , Ricardo Bartis, where Machin himself out to the balcony to mimic a hand amputated Perón waving, smiling, to "partners" in the square. And, of course, Carolina Tejeda, alone in the plains and in time, reeling Flour, Podolsky.

Near East, the lovable, unforgettable, it was renamed as "The Box", and the duo Catalan / Machín the continued offering here and there in a corner of Buenos Aires, Rosario in a room in a tour of France in Caracas, in Spain, until 2005. Since then, it is silent.

Flour (2005, Tejeda and Podolsky - click on the name) was organized in a square house with a sort of square window, and two related areas that cut in the plain loss of time and forgetfulness. In Aureliano back stage area that cuts square space, with the window now on the side, whereby the memory can only flee to return. And because this work is aware of its theatricality and its references, box, carton, that of refrigerators and refugee men in them, returns as a quotation and picture, along with the mattress and the lives of women narrates.

plot summary
A middle-aged woman cherishes memories and questions. Alone with his mattress, his clothes and his plant, stays together. The company is the word, thought, music and body uncomfortable secret.

time is not the emphasis on casual meal , either in this article on Aureliano or reviews from critics and the press. Aureliano Flour says. The first establishes a language, a way of saying, a way of living, a way to dramatize. Aureliano , to comment, as indicated, is established. Let's put the formula: as the Kafka of Borges, Aureliano creates its precursor. The feeling is this: any time the dress was transformed into slides, flour plant, Roxana Carolina.

Why

climbed a mountain
Comparatively, the first is the classic, the second a variation. The value is the language that crystallizes Román. Discuss it with anyone. Aureliano has magical moments, pearls and metaphorical reflection on trekking or distilled perfume that chik lit of the relationship between the dresses and moods. It also has strong moments of inconsistency, as the conversion to body = chamamé than it was a vague reference notable border into Paraguay. Insist on the illustrative figures to make them a risk but that risk taken worth: I also argue to anyone. The "mode Podolsky, "as that parent Open House at the beginning of the decade that is recycled in whole or as variations on Raymond Carver that saturated the dot 90 and this, deserves to be followed closely. I follow.

catch Paraguay and Paraguay is the border
evoked. Flour Sarmiento was the desert, who died in Paraguay. Aureliano is Spirited Away, which brings us back to living. The male body is very rare, but it is undeniable: it is there and makes her difference. The box hit by a female cloth causing the flight of a man by the window justifies everything, even the catch, which escapes me.

Berco and Pecoraro
This is anecdotal and remarkable. Function came to China Zorrilla, and Susu Pecoraro. Do not tell me Susú Roxana Berco and sisters do not appear. They are a talented variation, one of the other and vice versa. Of the best.

Shutters Distressed Look

About WINTER TRAVEL, Diego Alejandro Tantanian and Penelas


Last Friday I went to see WINTER TRAVEL, Diego Alejandro Tantanian and Penelas, the Metropolitan 2 (Corrientes 1343-5277 0500) 23.30 pm on Fridays.

Berlin, postal shadow
Fall 1995. Scala de San Telmo. The young playwright-colleague Actor-Alejandro Tantanian us to see one of his works based on songs by Kurt Weill, who by then was for me a vague reference to some musical works of Brecht, and from there would be almost a synonym for years, power an interpretive singer. The small room was expanded, with the experience. The tone in my memory is blue like the sea of \u200b\u200bthat song, "Blue, blue." And the picture is the deafening sound of a tear, a few years later would become classic theme and musical repertoire.

For a decade and a half, the qualities of interpretation, the standard versions and musical arrangements and the effectiveness emotional these shows continues. Do not try this article, then, a review of "Winter Journey", whose short story (?) Offer below-but a small, simple celebration of what this trip in progress, from 95 to now continues to provoke. Plot Summary


Composition theme "Winter Journey," Schubert's song cycle "as a starting point. Mr. Diego Penelas plays piano and does vocals. Rodrigo Quirós, drums and vocals. Alfredo Zucarelli, cello. And Alexander Tantanián act (and interact), singing, dancing (yes), and invites players to sing.

Moon and Lacan
Why sing the homo sapiens? We think we know why he speaks: he speaks because it is round and full as immutable planets. Speech because it lacks, because it is incomplete, because the other threatens to bite and maim in bits and to survive, to resist, to feed-forward teeth, hands and nails and phonemes-bite and mutilated in anxiety. We speak because we want to, talk to produce a material world that contains us. We speak to be from the other, to be with others. We talked to. Come in. We are plural.

Luna, the small moon of two and a half, talking up a storm, repeats and relates everything. Talk to me, with mother, Silvia, to Agnes, with her grandmother and wrists. It says a lot, think, play. And suddenly sings.

I sing myself
young children, during the slow language development and acquisitions, sing almost as much or more than they talk. The speech becomes, over time positions, meaning, intellectual, referential, phatic. The song, however, remains fun.

All adults sing alone. Sign of sanity, emotional, hot shower, recovery of sensory pleasure, sing as adults overflow. I think (and Lacan split with his beam me) that the subject speaks because he lacks, but sing because you do not. Sing because you do not.

-Jacques, get up and walk: In tears, protest, Night, Winter Journey .-

Of Tears
2002. The remarkable precision of artist Jorge Macchi in the lobby of The Wine Club. The strict concept ideas and Rudnitzky Tanta. The Peronist hype saying all that then, along with Brecht, will begin a stage of proportion. of tears is the classic indelible. Alexander, the singer, comic, marvel.

protest
2004. The Teatro San Martín get the idea of \u200b\u200ba musical theater design. This show Song "protest" foreshadows the dimension of "Winter Journey", but not privacy. Revolutionary moments, political, theme running through the scenic, six years after the marked drip hooked for Trip items ...

At night
2008. Or privacy. What was the scene of lush now condensed into a piano, and forces the body and the floor to expand and display. The actor is deployed, he says, and makes Night.

I celebrate myself and
Winter Journey. Tantanian and is Tantanian. And audience can congregate in the 600 seats at the Metropolitan, we know what will. Yes, we know. It is another spectacle. And yet, we quoted. Come on, we uphold. We are surprised (the "performance" of the flies ... well.) Why

sings the homo sapiens?
Why go once more to see a show of this performer?

Moon sings his songs again yesterday. His past is short. This is reaffirmed. And he held in the overflow. On another level, our past is also short. And the song is a celebration. Let's all get together then, that we know:

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back awhile sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
Walt Whitman

[Me I welcome and singing to myself.
And what I say now about me I tell you,
because what I have what you have
and every atom of my body is yours too.

Vago ... and invite my soul wander.
Vago and I lie on a whim on earth
to see how the grass grows summer.
My tongue, every molecule of my blood were born here,
of this land and these winds.
I gave birth parents who were born here, parent
that spawned other parents who were born here, parent
sons of this land and these winds also.

I have thirty-seven years. My health is perfect. And with my breath
pure

start singing today and do not finish my song until I die. To be silent now
schools and creeds.
Back. A place.
know what their mission and do not forget it;
anyone forget it.
But now my heart I offer the same to good to evil, let
talk to everyone without restriction,
and I open the doors to the original power of nature
rampant.

Walt Whitman.

(Version de León Felipe)]