Vol. xxvi #3

September, 2005

Alice H. Beaver

While I was in my first year of graduate school for my MFA in Theatre for Youth at Arizona State University, a professor, whose specialty is Latin America theatre, recommended that I look into teatro la fragua because of my interest in working with an under-privileged population. The more research I did on teatro, the more excited I became. I had contacted teatro and flooded Jack with questions. But as happens with any degree program, my passion for teatro got pushed to the back burner to make room for new interests and assignments. The years passed, but teatro was still on my mind. Finally, a summer opened up and I re-contacted Jack and asked if I could come and work at the theatre. I told him what my strengths as an artist were and he told me to come down to Honduras. I bought my ticket and was on my way. I admit that I was very nervous showing up at teatro and El Progreso. I didn't know what to expect or what was expected of me.

The city of Progreso was a lot different from the other cities I had visited in Central America. Instead of being founded as a colonial town, its main development came from the fruit companies. So, it lacked the stunning colonial architecture and a central park. I had some idea that the city wasn't going to be amazing, when I had a hard time locating any information in travel books about it.

The downtown center is alive with businesses, banks, taxis, bikes, and buses. But, other than the hustle and bustle, the town center is forgettable -- except for the near bike accidents I had with a taxi, or a person, or another bike, or a rickety horse-drawn cart, or a dog, or a chicken. Heart-racing moments are hard to forget. The downtown also has the few paved streets in the city. All the residential areas have dirt and rock roads with big pot-holes, which are a little rough riding on with a bike that has no shocks. How spoiled a Gringa can be!

I lived a block off the main street with Wilson Gómez, an actor in the company, and his family. Their house was very nice and had all the modern amenities. After I had finished reading all the books I had brought, I found myself parked out on the couch at night flipping through the many cable channels on the television. It could have been just another night in the states. As comfortable as the house was, the strangest occurrence was the water situation. After my first day at teatro I was extremely grimy and sticky and looking forward to a refreshing shower. I went into the bathroom, stripped and stood in the shower with anticipation. I turned the knob. And nothing happened. There was no water. As it turns out, the city would turn off the water at random times of the day. I thought that there must be a water schedule and I was determined to figure it out. How wrong I was! There was no rhyme or reason to the water. Some days the water would stay on all day and other days the water would cut off mid-day and not turn on again until the next day, it didn't matter what day of the week it was. It frustrated me to no end. But then, as with any inconvenience, I learned to live with it.

My time at teatro was a remarkable one. There was never a dull moment; I was always busy with work. The original plan was that I was to work with a group of high-school students, but that fell through. So the task fell to me of constructing the costumes for the show Misión a la Isla Vacabeza and the ballet Peter and the Wolf. The company had recently been to Guatemala and had purchased yards of beautiful Mayan fabric. Costumes have always been a passion of mine, but I had never had that much experience building them. Sure, I had to make a pair of pants in college and I had even tried to work in the costume shop in graduate school. However, my real knowledge of costumes and sewing came from my childhood under my mother's instruction. I had been in Odyssey of the Mind and was always sewing on the sewing machine making outrageous costumes and props. So, when Jack asked me to build the costumes, I agreed. I knew I could sew and if I didn't know how to do something I would learn. Sink or swim.

I did all the sewing at the nearby technical school. Every morning I would gather the fabric and walk over to the school amidst a shower of cat-calls. And always the young women and the teacher would greet me with smiles, but I couldn't help thinking that these women are in school to learn how to sew to get a job in a sweatshop or maquila, where one day they will make clothes that I could purchase in the USA. I have now started checking the labels of my clothes: if it's not Honduras, it's Singapore or Thailand.

Some days the young women would gather around me and watch me sew. At times I was embarrassed because I sew like a drunken sailor walks. But with time I got more comfortable with them watching and as a result my sewing improved greatly.

For Misión a la Isla Vacabeza, the costume concept was a reverse Wizard of Oz. The play begins in the Mayan court at Copán, which would be brightly colored; the hero travels to the oppressed island where black and white and grey and faded colors prevail. From the colorful Mayan fabric I made loincloths and capes for the warriors. For the campesinos on the island, I cut up t-shirts from the tómbolas, thrift stores filled to the brim with discarded clothes from the USA, and then pieced them together to make ponchos. The result was effective. The opening scene in the court was like a trip to Oz, but as soon as the hero landed on the island, the main source of color came from his cape alone.

Peter and the Wolf has always held a special place in my theatrical history. When I was a little girl, I would go into the basement and put Captain Kangaroo's version on my Fischer Price record player. I would dance around for hours acting out all the parts. I was more than delighted when I learned that the teatro's ballet school was presenting its own version of the ballet.

Again, I would use the Mayan fabric for the costumes, but I also asked my mother to send down old dance tights and leotards and costumes pieces she and her friends could locate. The box arrived just before I finished the costumes for Misión a la Isla Vacabeza. I started sorting through the items and picked out pieces that I would transform.

Peter and the Grandfather were in simple costumes; Peter in a red cape and Grandfather in a blue and black cape. The hunters, who were also the forest, had Mayan fabric pants, hats, and ponchos. The real fun was creating the costumes for the animals. The duck had feathers around her neck and waist out of the yellow Mayan fabric over a base of brightly dyed yellow tights. The bird had feathers from my old Diana Ross costume, along with a feather belt made out of purple Mayan fabric. Orange was the color of the cat and she had paws, a tail and a ribbon, all from the fabric. Her head was adorned with a fuzzy animal cap with ears. Lastly, the wolf, all in black with a snake-like tail, had a menacing presence with his hairy paws and big hairy head.

After seeing all the company in their costumes for both Misión and Peter and the Wolf, I couldn't believe that (thankfully with some help) I had done it. Coming into teatro with a basic knowledge of costumes and leaving with a new-found confidence was extremely rewarding. My adventure in Progreso and teatro la fragua was exciting and difficult, but I believe the experience will help shape future endeavors and I know that the relationships I made there will last a long time.

--Alice Beaver

(Alice H. Beaver grew up in Johnson City, Tennessee. She attended Rollins College in Winter Park, Florida, for her BA in Theatre Arts. She studied acting at the Stella Adler Conservatory of Acting in New York and at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art in London. She is currently in her last year earning her MFA in Theatre for Youth at Arizona State University in Tempe, Arizona. Recently, her focus has been devising new works to promote community dialogue. She works for Childsplay, Inc., as a teaching artist and lives in downtown Phoenix.)