Rage, rage against the dying of the light

I think I’ve just been harpooned through the heart.

I just finished reading George Seremba’s Come Good Rain. I don’t know if I have the words to properly express what effect this play has on me – and, given my (somewhat unfortunate?) penchant for digressing into humour, I hope that this post will properly act as a tribute to the experience of reading this piece.

I’ll start by saying: My knowledge of African politics in general is thin. This is something that I’ve been meaning to rectify, and so when George Seremba’s Come Good Rain appeared on my desk this morning I was instantly pleased that the script is preceded with a bit of a historical breakdown of the major leaders of Uganda dating back to British colonial rule.

The play, in short, deals with Seremba’s personal experience having survived some of the most horrific, terror-based, leaders of Uganda during the 70s-80s. Having been somewhat of an opponent of Milton Obote – or, rather, speculative deaths more generally, and at the very least, speculative acquisitions of power – Seremba landed himself in a world of trouble.

I’m between a rock and a hard place; I want so badly to talk about this, but don’t want to ruin the dramatic arc for you, dear readers! …I am fighting a lump in my throat, wanting so badly to talk about the horror this man survived, the things he has seen, my empathy, how humbling it is to read this and realize that yes, you fight for justice, for your fellow human being,  because some people have fought under much more trying circumstances. This play : it is heartbreaking.

And yes, you should absolutely not hesitate to read it (Fall 2010! as part of a very exciting anthology re: African-Canadian plays)

George Seremba, photo from FOMACS

Seremba – well, he is outstanding. A beautiful writer, a talented actor, a proponent for higher education, a professor, a true role model. Amazing. Just look! Cmon! I am so so happy I thought to google, because my heart (contending with the shrapnel of knowledge handed to me by this amazing, moving play) has been somewhat soothed knowing where this man has come from, and where he is today.

with fuel the fire burns bright.

Not my words today but pieces of thoughts, actions, reactions… I’ve amassed a small collection lately; words that keep this heart ablaze.

” …biologists also see in humans a natural willingness to help.”

“You can belittle and diminish if that’s your bent, but the unvarnished truth is the creative class — artists of all sorts, new media and social entrepreneurs, musicians and all the other disciples of the creative class — are literally transforming and reinvigorating parts of Hamilton’s downtown core.” – Howard Elliot for the Hamilton Spectator

“Un artiste est un scarabée qui trouve, dans les excréments mêmes de la société, les aliments nécessaires pour produire les œuvres qui fascinent et bouleversent ses semblables. L’artiste, tel un scarabée, se nourrit de la merde du monde pour lequel il œuvre, et de cette nourriture abjecte il parvient, parfois, à faire jaillir la beauté.”

- Wajdi Mouawad

tales from the inimitable intern: ‘OutSpoken’ launch at Buddies

The morning after the PCP’s first book launch of the season and I’m beaming. This place is amazing. I went to Buddies last night as the PCP’s “just an intern” (a slip of tongue i was admonished for and immediately regretted — now, ‘editorial intern’ to be fancy, or perhaps ‘inimitable intern’ to turn heads).

I fell in love again and again with people who’ve written words and stories that were hilarious, or moving… but, across the board: candid and relevant.

OutSpoken: A Canadian Collection of Lesbian Scenes and Monologues

You need this book in your collection of theatre books. Or – scratch that! – books in general! When’s the last time you’ve picked up something outside of your habitual fiction/non-fiction/poetry anthology/Globe? This could be a good place to start! Go, broaden your horizons, break that mold, be free Icarus!!

Edited by Susan G. Goyle (NOW Magazine), OutSpoken is in part a political and a communal expression. Yes it is a collection of lesbian pieces, but without harsh boundaries. Above all, the launch had a sense of optimism (served with a healthy dose of activism) as I overheard professors, professionals, artists, etc, who expressed a necessity for this book to be adopted by institutions, Universities, friends, families…

My personal favourite reads of the night were Mariko Tamaki’s performance of an excerpt from her solo piece, Skim, and a sexyhothothot and really funny reading by Jess Dobkin from her play Emergency Exits. But, for me, the real killer was a gut-churning, heart-breaking reading by trey anthony from Da Kink in My Hair.

All of these and more are in the book. d’bi.young.anitafrika, Alec Butler, Moynan King… So many familiar and significant voices in this collection.

Anyway, I officially turned into Camera Face (a.k.a. that-person- whose-face-you-won’t-remember-because-it-was-hidden- behind-a-camera-all-night) and have about a zillion pictures to show for it and so hopefully will get those onto here soon!

Now, back to making copy for the Fall catalogue. Am reading a play by Celia McBride – a playwright from Whitehorse. C’mon.  Rare, amiright?

A bientôt.