Shows/Workshop

We have seen many shows while here in Berlin. Even though I did not walk out of every show thinking "wow that was incredible," every show did make me feel something. The three shows I will undoubtedly never forget are: Remote Mitte, Hillbrowfication, and Women in  Trouble! (in that order) Remote Mitte stood out to me because it was unique, creative, interactive and thought provoking. The people who came up with it are creative geniuses! The entire time I was having fun while at the same time thinking about the meaning of life. This piece made me think a lot and was the most fun. Hillbrowfication was unforgettable to me because it embodied some of the main reasons I want to be an actor. They had a strong sense of togetherness as an ensemble, and they made me feel hope, fear, struggle, pain, joy, love, anger etc in 120 minutes. I think that is the beauty of being an actor - we make people feel something. Women in Trouble will always be remembered by me, because I hated it so much. I remember watching it thinking: "is this some kind of a joke?" "when is it going to be over?" "wow the acting is so bad." But now looking back on it I don't know if I actually hated it, or if my inability to understand the point the director and the actors were trying to make with the story simply translated to hate. In other words, I was so frustrated with the fact that what I consider to be a good story and good acting was not coming through, that I didn't take the time to consider a different point of view. I automatically deemed it as "bad" without really considering all the possibilities.


The workshop we did today was the most fun I had while in Berlin. It really forced me to be open, to truth my instincts, trust the ensemble and it sparked some creativity. I love how we got to use all the exercises we did into creating our own scenes. It was really fun and I really wish we were able to do more stuff like that throughout the trip!

Cripes!!!!

I watched someone try to scale the walls of the Holocaust Tower today. Yup. You read that correctly. I was sitting in the Tower, miraculously by myself, for maybe 3 minutes when in walks the worst of humanity. First off, before the 3 want-to-be rock climbers entered the space, every next visitor I encountered had one of two reactions: they either walked into the room made of concrete, saw it only as that, sighed disappointedly and left OR they spoke full voice asking the purpose of why the room was so dark or what it meant. Before I even had time to process the roughness of just those two things, the three adult women (if I can even say that) walked in and proceeded to try and scale the corner where the two diagonal walls met. The corner letting in the only source of light. Now I was sitting in the opposite corner, observing all that was happening before me and while some people previously thought I was a part of the room, perhaps as a statue or a paid actor, I stayed seated but when I saw this happen, especially while the three girls were laughing on the top of their lungs, I shot up and maybe because they thought I was not an actual human or just going to question/confront them (which I was) they ran out of the room leaving me standing amongst another sea of more clueless humans. 

People perplex me. No. Most people suck and it saddens me.

I had a similar experience at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews. After 20+ minutes of getting lost in the maze of the installation, I sat down on the floor and took in the magnitude of the columns around me and what they represented. I was alone for a bit but then I started to become keenly aware of all the ridiculousness around me. This teenage girl was shooting what I assume was some kind of music video with a ton of balloons, many games of tag and hide and seek were being played, a couple asked me to take their photo to which they both then struck a pose with their arms stretched out to their sides as if they were bragging about their creation BUT the man who took the cake was the one who, before I even saw his face, I overheard say to whoever he was with: “I thought there would at least be names on the concrete.” Now if this wasn’t bad enough his little comrade began to laugh and replied with a: “Yeah dude. Lets get out of here.” I guess their exit route included my little passage way because when the first man passed, he looks down at me and asked: “What are you doing on the floor? You good?” To which I just nodded— not that he saw it anyway because both of the middle-aged men were laughing and had already walked away. 

You can't make this stuff up and even if I could why would I? 

You know, it’s so easy to ask: “How could atrocities like the Holocaust even happen?” or state that “That would never happen again!” Hell, I have even said those things myself but then I am met and reminded of people like this and I quite literally think: “That is exactly how/why it could happen.” 

Maybe you think that's negative or pessimistic but honestly it’s the truth or at least my truth in this moment. It must also be said (as was pointed out to me) that this understanding may also be the reason for these memorials and museums. Beyond staying educated and remembering those who were lost, perhaps they were created to help you realize and remember that it could happen all over again in the blink of an eye. And that may be thanks to the people who roam and visit those very places beside you.  

Found in the Details

With a mother who, for most of her life, had a place in the art world, most of my early life was spent, if not in her gallery, among art in general. I was fully immersed in this world that not many get to be a part of so it's really no surprise that I feel most at home when roaming the halls of a museum and/or gallery. 

The first few museums we visited here in Berlin contained mostly artifactual art— things built and used hundreds of years ago. I was tragically craving some sculptures you could sit in front of for hours or honestly I would be so content with just some simple paintings. Putting this craving of mine aside, I must admit that I am grateful for this strict exposure to only these kind of exhibits because it made me question a lot about why we have museums in the first place. What items are delineated as worthy enough for a glass box? The contents of museums, like these, seemed constructed and as I took more of it in, the more false it seemed to me. Almost made up entirely. Even just remembering that so many of these pieces were stolen from their original creators or owners left me mainly questioning two things: Who said it should be on display in the first place? Why in that capacity? And finally, what should/do the curators of these exhibits want us to get from seeing items behind glass panes? Of course you can appreciate the age and detail of a vase, for example, but beyond that I couldn't really think of an answer when I asked myself: what I am I getting out of this? 

Now this is me setting up a scenario in an alternative universe but… couldn't we get so much more out of going to these artifactual museums by getting to interact with the materials it holds directly or at least not be separated by four walls of glass? How amazing would it be to get to try on some of the jewelry royalty used thousands of years ago — yes I know most pieces are too fragile for this — but create replicas or accept that not everyone can and will get the same experience anyway so if it breaks it breaks. Don't get me wrong, I know there are MANY flaws to the practical and logistical side of my proposal (because we as humans would, first, have to function very differently in order for this to be sustainable) but the point is... because I was getting nothing or rather just questioning why I was looking at mere items in glass, I started brainstorming how I could get something out of it and that in itself was exciting. 

I have spoken of this "questioning" with a few of my fellow Berliners and it has seriously changed my capacity the way I take in those kinds of displays and museums. With all this said, you can only imagine my happiness when I finally got to go to the Altes National or go gallery hopping with Nick, or the Kulturforum (the list goes on.) My soul was getting re-filled as I got deeper and deeper into these rooms that had more art than space. I captured the paintings and sculptures that stole my heart and bought a few postcards for my collection but it was my second series of pictures that I am now sharing in this post. 

Maybe the inspiration for them was inspired by my previously mentioned "questioning," but I found myself so captivated by the detail of many of the pieces I saw. This is not to say I hadn't paid attention to detail in the past but I found myself snapping pictures of only parts of certain paintings and it was extremely captivating. The secrets lie in the detail. They have so much to say and I love how they also don't let you guess dimension. Some of these pictures were from paintings the size of my hand and others that covered full walls but I love that you will never know unless you know the original piece. I also purposely left out the faces or at least the eyes of these people because I think the detail of their clothing says more about them. Without their full face you get to decide who they are. 

Maybe those who read this will recognize where I stole my close ups from but that makes it all the more exciting. As I look back at my small collection its like I have created an exhibit of my own. So on that note, I hope you like what I have curated.

3 muddled thoughts

Some things I have been thinking about...

1. I am still reflecting on the two movement pieces we have seen, Allee Der Kosmonauten and Foreign Body. Truthfully I enjoyed Foreign Body A LOT; I enjoyed meeting the performer afterwards, I thought the music and lighting had a perfect balance, and I was really captivated by the topic of the transgender body. I haven’t had much experience attending movement pieces prior, even though I am a dancer. I am currently member of Rutgers Performing Dance Company and I have been dancing for 15+ years at my own local studios. I have plenty of experience at dance shows, but I feel as though even in my limited experience in movement, I think it differs greatly. Essentially I feel that I am struggling to allow myself to differentiate the two art forms of movement and dance. After attending both of those shows, I seemed to be comparing it to the broad genre of dance. As an audience member I was occupied by waiting for a moment in performance where I no longer felt that void. In my head I will  think “wow that could’ve been so cool if they just did this... or that...” Dance is used for intention of enjoyment for the dancer as well as intention of enjoyment for the audience. This has been my own internal struggle that I simply wanted to share :)
2. After Liberté, Christopher was posing the question along the lines of ‘at what point can we distinguish theater being different, and when does it just become bad’. To me I knew the show was going south when the bizarre hedge came out, but I’m struggling to pinpoint the reason why that bothered me. Musically inclined or not, the moment of when the lady ‘sang’ from the balcony was even more bizarre. Back to my dance point of view, you can experience choreography or movement which is different from the usual styles of contemporary, lyrical, jazz etc but have it still make sense... but you can also tell when it’s bad if an attempted style lacks technique. I think that there is a clear line that can be crossed that transitions unique dancing to bad dancing. My dance company used to dance on pointe shoes to Michael Jackson music. Ballet to pop music may sound like a nightmare, but rather I would argue that it was just different!  When we see something challenging, we are also able to recognize that something good is occurring. But we can also see something challenging and “different” but we able able to tell that it is just simply bad. I don’t think I’ll ever have an answer and maybe there isn’t one. I would love to hear all of your thoughts… (how are you able to tell if acting is different vs bad, can you easily tell if a set is unique or if it’s bad etc.)
3. I am really impressed by the use of film here in Berlin. The show we saw tonight, Im Herzen Der Gewalt, used the video cameras in live time which created SO MUCH emphasis! When the actor in the pink sweater was hiding behind the wall, which was really just his face aside a sheet of paper, I am pretty sure my jaw dropped. It was beautiful. Most of the video on screen could have been pre recorded, for example the tapes of them collecting the fingerprints on the ground. But by doing it live I felt that I was at a one of a kind show. Nobody who goes to see that show will ever have the same experience. (Granted that’s true all the time because each show a performance can shift due to lines, timing etc but you get the point haha). Also, during Shakespeare’s Last Play when they used the screen to present the actors locations which moved around I was very impressed. I have not seen theater like that in America.

Unfinished Painting

I was so intrigued when I saw this painting at the Alte National Gallery. I had never taken any fine art classes, and to think that paintings had guides/sketches under them was kind of amazing to me. The thought that every painting has something structural underneath is fascinating. The artist's need to put more thought into these paintings than just putting paint on canvas. 

It is also fun to think there is a whole other invisible world in all of these museums. Who knows what could be sandwiched between the canvas and the paints. And the world will never know if what is on top is what matches what is underneath. 

The idea of building on what is underneath is also intriguing to me. The painters rely on what is drawn for them to guide their paints, and as people, we have had others to guide us through our lives and we build on what they have taught us. Our parents, mentors, teachers, and other influencers have given us a structure to build our lives on. It is how we use what we are given that make us different, that makes us who we are. And even if we haven't had the best upbringing, or we have hit stumbling blocks in our lives, just remember that even unfinished paintings hang in museums. 

A City of Surprises

Our first Sunday off had me dreaming of lounging in a quiet and shady park with my notebook.  Soon I learned that Berlin had other plans for the day.  To my surprise, this involved the protest that I had vaguely heard about that morning.  It had passed by as I was eating lunch, but this was not the last I would see of it.  On our way to the Tiergarten, we made a stop by the Brandenburg Gate where we were met with thousands of Berliners, booming bass music, and lots of glitter.  This location happened to be the endpoint of this rally.  Truthfully, I was initially slightly annoyed to not be able to get to the park. After fully taking in my surroundings, I became grateful for the change of plans.  Quite by accident I was witnessing a moment in history, firsthand.  Not only just witnessing, but participating in.  It ended up that it was even the kind of movement I would purposefully join in America.  So, why not in Berlin?  After all, it is the very city that is teaching me to always go with the flow.  So I embraced the experience.  When I first heard about the protest, I did some basic research out of curiosity, but after being a part of it I was inspired to learn more about what exactly I had supported.  This rally, titled “Bass Away the AfD” was in response to a march in support of the AfD.  To sum it up this group is known for discrimination.  I’ll leave you to further research if you please and make your own opinions on that.  Using the dance club culture the city is known for, it was broadcasted that the AfD as well as its discrimination and hatred have no place in Berlin.  The plaza was instead filled with peace flags, outfits made of gold and silver foil, dancing, and of course, the inspired roar of the crowd (which made me long evermore so to understand German).  The counterdemonstration outnumbered the initial march by twenty thousand Berliners and because of a lucky bit of poor planning, a few Americans. 

Berlin // 2018

Berlin // 

Berlin has elevated my way of experiencing. 

Traveling in any unknown space will demand some change—if not, just a slight adjustment. My time in Berlin so far has taught me to embrace whatever comes my way. Scribbling in my journal, I’ve thought of the many levels of this trip. All intertwining, complimenting, and screwing with each other. 

On the base level is myself. Me abroad. Out of the nest. Also my relationship to myself. How I operate, alone. My inner dialogues become more certain and reliable. In previous travails, I made it a goal to not operate out of fear, while still being a rational human being. Sorta living the way I’ve been taught to act on stage. “Yes, And.” And more than ever, I’ve been speaking to myself with a confidence that has allowed for some contradicting and unexpected thoughts to give rise—something I wouldn’t be able to take were this a year ago. Embracing difficult situations as the moment. And not denying my restlessness or agitation or even uncomfortable laughter as anything less than an opportunity to reassess how _____ made me feel. Question everything not because I have to, but because I want to. 

Which I guess brings me to the second level of the trip for me which is Germany. Specifically Berlin, but since this is my first exposure to Germany as country—it’s one and the same. (That will change with time or if I ever get out of this city for a day.) But this city has given me a lot to respond to. Challenges. Conquering Fears. Extremes. Privilege. Darkness. Heat. Hope. 

Third tier would have to be the people. This group of twenty seekers, all looking through different tinted sunglasses. It’s been one of the highlights of this trip, to break bread and drink wine (or Radlers) with people I’ve wanted to get to know, but never found the time to, in New Brunswick. I find a lot of pleasure in getting to know interesting people, but also in getting to know myself in relation to a new group (tribe). If that makes sense. It’s reassuring to know that my social reality is not limited to just those in my acting company, or those in the arts for that matter. 

The final level is what I am doing with this group in Berlin, Germany. Experiencing theatre. Opened ended enough not to induce stress, but focused enough not to let me go adrift.

Seen a lot of thought provoking shows so far, each touching a different part of me in a different way. When encountering a new place, I hope to understand the place better through the art. Not always the most authentic way to take in its people, because actors tend to be more than human and unless you talk to them after the show, not a great representation of Berliners. And I’m sensing a theme recurring in the audience demographic. But art is my way. It makes sense and I trust it. 

After the impromptu trip to the Deutsches Historisches Museum, I had a humiliating, difficult moment. But one worth sharing. 

After spending close to four hours (not enough) going through the history of Germany, I was saturated with a lot of feelings. It never gets harder to read about the atrocities that have happened and to see how insidiously it came into fruition. And when all was done, I exited to exhibit with hope. I got my bag. Went to the restroom. And as I’m doing my business, I hear this younger boy’s voice say, “No Gays Allowed” to another group of boys washing their hands. I was shocked to be even hearing that, in all places. I told myself, as I went to wash my hands, I’d say something to the boy. There were at least nine of them. About 14. British, too. But as I was finishing up at the sink, he said, “I already said, NO Gays Allowed.” I didn’t know if I wanted to knock the kid out or cry. But I said nothing. I just looked at him for a brief moment and left. I walked the rest of the day going through what I would’ve said to this boy and how that might’ve made an impact. But I froze and chose the path of least resistance—something I’ve done in the past, but it took that museum and seeing what can happen when good people say nothing. It’s a slippery slope and I’m no longer beating myself up about that moment, but I’m learning from it. Berlin has made me confront the weaknesses inside myself. 

Berlin to me is a city of reflection and action. 

// Brett