A Month in the Country

Being the journal kept by George Drance sj
during his tenure as Master Drill-sergeant
of teatro la fragua's BALLET BOOT CAMP II.

(--Claro Oscuro)

Thursday, June 18, 1987.
Heraclitus vrs. Parmenides: "All things are in a state of flux" or "Change is illusion." On the one hand, things have improved much: more people, better discipline, tighter organization. Their singing has not only the unabashed alegría that chimed its way into my heart last year, but now has an adeptness that makes their presentation spectacular and moving at the same time. Reina moves with confidence and joy, Moncho points his toes when he marches; the fragüeños' gestures have matured grace about them. On the other hand moods seem still to be self-destructive, invading the great potential and talent of the group. And yet by the end of he day the way they worked with each other was wonderful. First days back are always strange; but it good to be back.

Friday, June 19,1987.
Performance of Honduran Stories at Santa Elizabeth. The fragüeños seem at their highest at times of performance. The high-school salón filled slowly with excited children while the actors waited outside for the adults to arrive(the adults always hold things up). The talk, jokes and stories are perfect preamble to a performance. The laughter and joy of the children responding to their antics on stage is a magical sound. People who suffer really know what joy is, thank God.

Saturday, June 20, 1987.
Performance of the Passion (El Asesinato de Jesús) in Naranjo. When Aristotle listed all the components of a dramatic presentation, he forgot to mention the Carib drum. The pulsing beat is enthralling; it's incredible how it makes the performance so Honduran. Christ begins his journey to Jerusalem to his passion and death amidst drums and dancing. The refrain "I confirm my vocation today" lingers with me. Perhaps to travel to the passion is a vocation apart from doing great work. I wish I could accept it with the jubilation of this group of actors.

Glancing curiously as they pass the white-and -black clad actors warming up in the dark outside amidst the twinkle of fireflies, the villagers slowly gather in the schoolhouse. There's something captivating about the Coleman-lantern-lit playing space: The light itself creates a sharp distinction between the night outside and the glow within. This is the type of theatre no university could prepare one for nor hope to capture.

Sunday, June 21, 1987.
Beach sand is wonderful for the feet--a great surface for a ballet class. Something tells me Jack won't buy it.

Monday, June 22, 1987.
First day of classes. It's going to be a lot of work and a lot of fun. I hope the rains come soon.

Tuesday, June 23, 1987.
Rehearsal of La Esperanza del Principio. All the reading, exegesis, commentary in the world pales in comparison to seeing people act out Salvation History right in front of you. The Mozart Adagio we did last year to the prologue of John's Gospel is perfect for the Creation. The Cain and Abel section builds wonderfully. The part that did me in was the transition from Cain and Abel to the genealogy of Christ, definitely one of the most poorly presented texts in the Gospel -- at least poorly presented from U. S. pulpits. Here, the actors restore to the genealogy the richness of tradition, the excitement of the working out of our salvation. Cain and Abel leave you in an emotional "Land of the dead" which is suddenly shattered by the pulse of Fredy's Salsa drum and the singing and dancing of the actors. The juxtaposition is a staggering reminder of the gratuity and greatness of the gift of redemption -- something made stale by the modern day's dealing with Christmas. I hope the memory of the of this powerful moment will be a safeguard against taking this gift for granted.

Wednesday, June 24, 1987.
Acute-Spanish-shut-down day.

Thursday, June 25, 1987.
Jack left with the advanced group to give a workshop in Victoria. We started to put Desaparecidos together. People are beginning to realize the basic thing which I had thought was obvious: dance is the embodiment of the music. The two work together, the music to inspire the dance, the dance to interpret the music. Nothing is obvious to beginners. After showing that each fouetté was on the drum beat and each promenade was on a new phrase, Danilo says, "In other words, the rhythm of the dance is the same rhythm as the music." POR FIN.

Friday, June 26, 1987.
Feast of the Sacred Heart. After Mass the lady-with-the-curlers "invited" us to take part in a procession around Progreso. She must be a professional procession organizer. We had three lines going down the street. She was constantly nudging people to make sure the lines were even; she policed to make sure everyone was saying their Santa María's . At one moment we halted on the main drag, and two guys on bicycle decided they didn't want to wait for the procession to end. They rode between the lines only to meet the back of Lady-with-the-curlers. She didn't budge. No question as to who has the power in the Church.

Saturday, June 27, 1987.
I make sure the salary check is in my bag so I can give it to Mario to cash.-- I'd hate to face ten unpaid actors. I arrive at the theatre and Chito tells me Mario was taken away last night by the soldados. Obdulio and I go to see if we can get him out. We wait an hour. They finish "getting the information we need" and let us go back and see Mario. He is in a cell reminiscent of an old Gunsmoke episode, minus the bed and plus three cell-mates. Then we wait to pay the 20 Lempiras and get out of there. I have the good fortune to be sitting in front of the sergeant's desk; the troops waiting until he's unoccupied enough to receive their final salute stand in front of me , one gun pointed at my leg, one at my middle, one at my head. The sergeant finally finishes his coke and they are off. I can breathe again. And here I thought Progreso was a nice place to bring up your kids. Turns out your kids might wind up in jail because their papers aren't in order or your kid might end up in the army carrying a gun as tall as he is. So much for getting the ballet barre up this morning. Getting Mario was enough.

(Desaparecidos)

Sunday, June 28, 1987.
La Prensa says that the foreign debt of the U.S. doubled in the last two years. And we still send money to the hoodlums that ravage this country and provoke war in three countries. The work of the teatro seems pale in the face of this insanity. Although perhaps the work of the teatro is the only reasonable response to insanity.

Monday, June 29, 1987.
The kids are finally getting the feel of Desaparecidos. With the whole piece choreographed, the momentum is carrying them into it. The beginning class in doing remarkably well; they're progressing rapidly. The advanced -- the ones I taught last year -- well.... "Happy are you who are hungry now; you fill." The beginners are hungry. It's exciting to each them. They want to learn, they work and really try hard. Some of the advanced don't seem to want to advance any more. Why should they? When there's nothing around you to challenge you, no presence showing what you could achieve, it's hard to push yourself. Oscar can do this. He won't compare himself to the muchachos in the disco -- he's been better than them for years. Instead he'll watch TV and try to pick up steps from Charles Jude or Baryshnikov or anyone who's been dancing longer than he's been alive. That's being hungry. I don't wish my perfectionism on anyone. But in moderate doses it sure gives a lot of umph to striving for something excellent.

Tuesday, June 30, 1987.
I confess! I miss the whirlpool at St. Louis U.'s gym. My legs feel like lead, my back like an old brittle rubber-band. Great class this morning: we finally got the barre up and we really worked. But when we divided into groups and I demonstrated for both, I realized that I'm dancing about twice as much as I usually do. Well, it'll keep me in shape. Crazy day. Edy's not showing up again, Moncho doesn't care about anything, Guillermo's Dragging, Mario's disappearing. Maybe it's the moon. Maybe first crescent has an affect on Hondureños.

Wednesday, July 1, 1987.
Business as usual. Edy's back along with three potential replacements for him in Isabel. Moncho's being pushed by them a bit too. Allen Palacio, a Missouri Province scholastic who's doing a summer stint in Trujillo, visited and look classes today -- turns out he's taking with my old teachers in Omaha.

Thursday, July 2, 1987.
First day of the Ultra-Schedule or "How to fit five hours of work into three." It's good so far. We're at the point where we can practice one piece and start another at the same time. Laura Farina started today. It's really something special to see these guy's faces light up when they realize they are doing something they never thought they'd be doing . Chito's smile takes up his whole face. Guillermo finally can see himself as a dancer. Lizeth is beginning to see that dance isn't just running from one place to another. It will be fun to continue.

Friday, July 3, 1987.
Eight counts away from finishing Isabel. I never thought I'd see the day. ĄGracias a Dios! It will take a lot of polish still, but it works well. Everyone is starting to complain about aches and pains. I've got mine too; and most of them are in better shape than I. It's strange: When I ask them to work they can't because of the pain; yet when I work on another piece they've got enough freedom of movement to see if they can do the choreography better than those to whom it is assigned. Like Beto's ability to do a grand jeté en tournant battement when he wants to, but when I ask him for a simple grand jeté en tournant he can't seem to muster the energy. As I told him, "You have to want to."

Saturday, July 4, 1987.
Independence Day. On the way back from San Pedro Sula after a movie we get stopped at a roadblock to check our documentation.

Sunday, July 5, 1987.
When Allen Palacio was here last week we joked, "Do you have your papers with you?" No joke. Allen didn't. He's been a desaparecido for the past four days. We just heard today.

Monday, July 6, 1987.
Took class with Don Jorge today at the Secretaría de Cultura in San Pedro Sula. (I have to remind myself it's the Secretaría, not the Ministerio, which is only in Tegucigalpa. Rather like the Temple is only in Jerusalem). I was quite pleased with the way he works, challenges, and demands discipline. I hope he will work at la fragua. Afterward Edy and I had dinner at the Italia. Good conversation. It seems as though la fragua has something the other theatres don't: a director who sees value in things Honduran. The newspapers published articles on Allen's disappearance today. No sign of him.

Tuesday, July 7, 1987.
Jorge found the teatro and seems to be very impressed by the group. What's not to like? They were exceptionally brilliant; it helps to have an audience. Turns out Allen was in the clink in the battalion in La Ceiba over the week-end, but now they've shuttled him off somewhere else. Nobody knows where. Started Claro Oscuro today.

Wednesday, July 8, 1987.
People seem to think they've got Allen in Puerto Cortés. The Phone bill's going to be astronomic.

Thursday, July 9, 1987.
Thought I'd call home before the wires released the headline: Jesuit scholastic arrested in Honduras. Do my bit to prevent family heart attacks. It was good to talk to Donna; she'll pass on the info before the papers. Speaking of which, I carry mine with me at all times.

Friday, July 10, 1987.
Allen is in Belize " sano y salvo" -- so says his telegram. They stuck him on an open boat sometime early yesterday. Thank God. No telling what could have happened in a Honduran jail with the military madness that's on. I'm grateful our desaparecido has reappeared. Started Agua de Luna today.

Saturday, July 11, 1987.
Jorge came by again today. It's funny how all ballet teachers think alike. Watching Guillermo's and Edy's faces while he explained his modus operandi was a delight: they registered "I've heard all this before. His tactics sound like the drill sergeant approach I tried with the "stick" method of teaching: If it's not in line, whack it into line. They remember that a lot longer than a verbal correction. He'll be good for them. A Honduran can give them much I can't and he's very interested: as he put it, "It's a phenomenon!" I must confess it's like giving my baby up for adoption to someone who can provide a better home. It's for the good but I feel it.

(--Agua de luna)

Monday, July 13, 1987.
Mean old Monday morning. Try to collect the gang from the various planets they are on. Not too easy; Planet-hopping is probably a lot more enjoyable than work. Well, tomorrow is another day. Agua de luna was a disaster. Have to give them some time to get it in the subconscious.

Tuesday, July 14, 1987.
Lizeth's taking yesterday afternoon off -- a "mental health day" -- seems to have borne fruit. The review of Laura Farina was getting pretty close to performance level. I guess the workout of yesterday morning taught her that to do it right, it takes a lot of work. It looks like today she saw that it's worth it. She seemed to have not only more fun, more expression, but it also came through in the technique. BRAVO.

Wednesday, July 15, 1987.
Things went very well today. A lesson: Throw a lot at them in class combinations to make up the mind. Slam them at the barre and get them in gear. Put on the gas and let the clutch out slowly. If you let it out too fast it will stall. Don't give them a chance to laze off or to think too much and complicate things.

The review of Isabel went remarkably well. First day we worked with Reina's rehearsal skirt, thrown together yesterday with muslin and the technical school's Singer. My suspicions were correct: it makes all the difference. The flow of the skirt cleans up every line, provides a great focus, and comes off ,much more Latino. The piece looks beautiful.

They're finally getting the timing on Claro Oscuro, which is a miracle. "Lots of concentration for this one," as Edy said. You bet! Finished La Cita Today and it's pure fun. No way to express the inner thrill it is for a teacher to see students simultaneously enjoy their work and fell accomplishment. Worth the headaches.

Thursday, July 16, 1987.
Low energy afternoon after Jack and bunch took off for a workshop in Sonaguera. But memories of the morning were good. Claro Oscuro -- that incredibly long monster -- is close to completion and it does look good when it works. I hope they can keep it together and not lose it. We'll see.

Friday, July 17, 1987.
Time to tell them that they can't dance on automatic pilot. Yes, it's a relief to be at a point with Desaparecidos and to some extent with Laura Farina that they've got the choreography cold. But once that's the case: Perfect the pose, feel the phrase, use the arms, point the feet, and 4the FACE. The soul of the piece.

After three tries they finally did it with Desaparecidos. That is a really sad piece. I've been numbed by the repetition, but when acted out it's very powerful. I hope it stays that way.

Lizeth finally understands Laura, what a delight! She's got it! we are Laura and she invites us to be Laura. Things are Working. It's a good thing they balance it out by massacring the conga in La Cita -- a sacrifice well worth the good things in Laura. EVERYTHING can't work at the same time.

Saturday, July 18, 1987.
Wisdom words (continued): To do something perfectly, you have to want to do it perfectly.

Morazán in the afternoon. Arrived after a pretty strong storm which left a beautiful mantle of clouds on the mountains. Mostly I played chauffeur; Guillermo directed the operation. Pull over here... Obdulio, Chito, you take these groups.... Give me 8 Bibles.... No, 8 of the same, the green ones.... Drop Danilo off here, the road's washed out and you can't get down that way.... Leave Luis up there by the mango.... How many Bibles?.... 12..... Leave Rigo here and let's go back and make the rounds to see how the others are doing.

What was that about "Go out and teach all peoples"?

Sunday, July 19, 1987.
A sleepy, rainy, Isabel day. My leg has ceased to function. Again. jack got home from the Sonaguera workshop at dinner-time and we worked out transitions to put the dances together into a unified program. Decided just to use the title of the album: Agua de Luna.

Monday, July 20, 1987.
Spent the morning on Claro Oscuro and Isabel with the group that was in Sonaguera; They're rusty and tired after the weekend. Claro Oscuro still needs a lot of polish, but I think Oscar's got it down and will be able to drill them. Put the whole sequence together in the afternoon. It was rough. It will take them a while to figure out the transitions and to find the way to pace themselves, but I think it's going to work well.

Tuesday, July 21, 1987.
My hunch was right: the sequence works beautifully. Jack was even a bit watery-eyed after we ran through it.

Spent the afternoon in San Pedro Sula playing tourist: Looking for gifts for the family. And then a very emotional farewell in the theatre. Everyone had songs or poems or speeches which they could barely get through for their being all choked up. What a talented bunch. What a bunch of emotional Latinos!

EPILOGUE

Wednesday, July 22, 1987.
George got into the flight he was booked on and the plane took off on schedule. No repetition of last year's odyssey. He left behind a jewel of a dance program of Rubén Blades' Agua de luna.
And much more.

POSTSCRIPT

Please help us to finance Agua de Luna.
And much more.

Address your check to:

Jesuit Mission Bureau, Inc.
4511 West Pine Blvd.
St. Louis MO 63108
U.S.A.