A curated experience : A collaborative translation
Writer/thinker/designer Walter Cabal observes an Art Rat theatre rehearsal for the first time.
By Walter Cabal, Edited by Rose Kim
I walked into 1183 N Kraemer Blvd on a Sunday after eight in the morning through to one in the afternoon. I’m observing an Art Rat Theatre Company rehearsal. I’m walking in and I’m making sure my body doesn’t interrupt. I try to observe from a distance. The first thing I noticed was the space echoing not with one director’s voice towering over the others, but with four voices freely talking all at the same time.
After warming up, the group randomly chooses a name from a few crumpled pieces of paper to decide the order of performances. They had all prepared something. I hear director and cast member Rose: “We allow the chaos of the universe to come in our lives by choosing randomly as much as we can”.
The Southern California-based theatre company founded by Rose Kim is interested in a project to decolonize theatre. At one point in the rehearsal actor Ash Mehta performed what he prepared for Rose, and after the performance he was being nudged to choose how he would like to express the feedback given in an iteration of his performance . “You can make that choice because you can always make a choice,” said Rose. It seemed that Ash was invited to choose to draw from all the deep parts of himself, and choose what may and may not fit. He drew from the memories and feelings in his body. And I sat wondering what memories and what feelings my own body stored up.
It was a meaningful introduction to Art Rat for me because even in it’s non-performance moments I observed the doors to choose always wide open. If there are any shackles here, the rehearsal space aimed not to remove them for the actors, but for the actors to remove the chains for themselves.
I noticed this pattern in what Rose expects of her group. She requires them to empty themselves of how they think things are supposed to be, so they can be in tune with themselves and the choices they are making. The actors are invited to co-create each character with Rose; there is no struggle for power that I noticed in the rehearsal space. It takes humility for the actors to be caught off guard by Roses questions and it takes humility for Rose, the director, to listen to the concerns, and the interpretations of the actors.
In that, I see another layer: a layer of resistance. An entire cast of color is deciding that they can give themselves the direction they need, while the popular message is to take direction from the majority. For me, the rehearsal wasn’t just theatrical coaching. For me it was a creative way to resist. Sitting in on one rehearsal makes sense of why Art Rat describes itself on Instagram with two appropriate words: decolonize theatre.
As I’m sitting in on the performances, I’m also emptying myself of how I think things are supposed to be in a rehearsal space. Am I supposed to be here? I want to be aware of myself and of the choices I make, like the actors. And in this room, I feel like I am also being invited to co-create with Rose and the group. So I move my body from the chair on one side of the room to the floor. Approaching nearer to the center, I’m feeling a little uncomfortable. Am I allowed to do this? And will it get in the way? I’m choosing to have enough humility to not know how it’s supposed to unfold.
Jonathan Garcia and Maria Oliveira perform what they have been building together. Two flood lights project their shadows onto the wall. I’m seeing my own narrative in the foreground performance: a young boy receiving mixed messages from a girl he couldn’t put his finger on.
It’s pointed out there were actually four bodies in motion. Two bodies of the actors in the foreground and their two shadows in the background.
A second performance: the two shadows on the wall look like they are caressing and touching hands, but the two figures in the foreground were actually sitting apart and reaching at air. It is a trick of the light. The narrative changes for me. Now I’m projecting a quick reel of my previous marriage onto the scene. I am seeing my dream of being close with a previous spouse as like the shadow on the wall–a trick of the light. In reality, there was actually a distance between my previous spouse and me like the distance between the two actors.
No words were spoken in the performance, but the giggles, and the shadows, the moving bodies, gestures, and postures served as watchable memories of my own story. I can feel the memories of the anxiety in my stomach. Maybe this is what connecting with my body is like.
We all participated in putting meaning onto the movements of the shadows because it was new for us all. Everyone equally discovered a new possible narrative in the piece. This is a picture of what Art Rat means by decolonizing theatre. It blurs the lines between the known system of director as All Knowing Eye and the actors as subjugated followers.
In this cultural moment, Art Rat is highlighting that system as an echo of colonialism: a system where the actors are just tools for the main agent: the director. But Art Rat wonders if this system is really life giving. When Rose gives the actors tools and opportunities to begin directing themselves, others might see a director-less endeavor. I see an act of resistance embodied.
In the warm ups, Rose guided the group with “don’t forget to breathe outward. Breath is directional — we can give ourselves direction.” I’m inspired to be more connected to my own body and to experience the direction of my own breath. As I type this, I’m choosing to look away from my computer, and choosing to look back at it a few times. It is a small way for me to experience that I can choose my own vision’s direction.
In the spiritual tradition that I come from, the divine of the universe begins as outside of me. Then, in many seasons throughout my life, I accept and re-accept that spirit inside the parts of myself — closest to me, especially my body. In that sense, watching an Art Rat Rehearsal somehow highlighted my own process of discovering direction coming from within by listening to my body, and allowing my projections to give meaning to what I see.
Artistry feeds my soul when my stomach is empty but frequently I’ve watched at a distance. I’m walking away inspired to participate in Art Rat’s pieces with my own body’s memories. I’m walking away paying attention to the stories my own body tells, and the stories other bodies tell. I don’t want to just peer into a performance of bodies. I want to put meaning to the performance, with my body’s memories and feelings.
Instead of wanting the audience to receive someone else’s meaning, Art Rat hopes the audience will give meaning to what they have created. In Rose’s quintessential fire, she retorts back to me: “How to make your audience want to put meaning into a thing — that is the artistry.”
See where Art Rat is now at www.instagram.com/artratgram.
(IG: @artratgram)
Antidotes of the Heart will be performed at Amande Creative Space, 1183 N Kramer Blvd Anaheim, CA on the following dates:
. Dec 6th Friday 8pm
. Dec 14th Saturday 2pm
. Dec 20th Friday 8pm
. Dec 28th Saturday 8pm
Tickets are PAY WHAT YOU CAN at $5, $10, $15, or $25.
These amounts have no effect on where you’re seated.
Hi! Have you seen our IGTV series “Processing…”?
We share our weekly rehearsal with a weekly video.
Airs every Sunday 9pm.
Photo & Video by Resident Director of Photography, Quoc Quan Le.
www.quocquanle.com | (IG: @quocquanle26)
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About the writer:
Walter Cabal is a designer, thinker and writer. You can find his other writings at https://medium.com/@cabal.walter. Walter and Rose met by chance while they were in the audience at a theatre show in LA, seated beside each other.
. As designer, his work can be found at www.cabalcrafted.com
. Personal instagram at https://www.instagram.com/waltercabal/
