Franziska and I went to see Fuerzabruta, the new production by the creators of De La Guarda, and we were left with some questions. In a nutshell, we stood in a large dark room for a little more than an hour while water was sprinkled on us, blasts of air and bits of paper were blown on us, and performers executed acrobatic maneuvers to techno music above us. We felt like we were cramped in a club with people of all ages. The atmosphere was unpredictable, filled with a rush of excitement, a tinge of fear, and an ounce of confusion. The performance was high intensity and had great special effects, but how could a show about nothing cost $70? But after hearing from Tamara Levinson, one of the performers in the show, I realized maybe we aren’t as down and dirty, and “free” as we thought we were…(Ojo: maybe have a few drinks first).
Name: Tamara Levinson
Age: 31
Occupation: Performer
Roots: Argentine
Hometown: Buenos Aires
How did you get involved in De La Guarda and then Fuerzabruta?
When I was 20 years old, I was living in New York City, and I heard through a friend that there was a show from Argentina called De La Guarda. I went to see it and instantly fell in love with the show. I knew it was in my destiny. I hadn’t just stumbled across it; it was a gift that was given to me on so many levels. It was from my country and I felt a closeness to it. In De La Guarda, I met Diqui James, the director. So when he started working on Fuerzabruta about nine years later in Buenos Aires, I just joined in since I was living there at the time. The rest is history.
Which do you like better, and why?
They are both special to me, and they are incomparable. De La Guarda is powerful, electric - a rave of sorts. It’s a party where you could just let go. Just be. Scream, have fun, dance, get it all out. It brought out the younger, "let’s just go have fun and get crazy" side of me. Fuerzabruta is subtle, detailed, mature, beautiful, sensual and mesmerizing. It brings out the mature feminine side of me. Together these two shows have come to me at the most appropriate times in this lifetime and have guided me through my twenties. They have allowed me to discover all the parts of who I am, and continue to search for, as a person and an artist.
Does Fuerzabruta have a story plot and/or meaning besides the cool music and special effects?
I believe everything in life and art has a story and a plot - sometimes it’s just not given to you in an obvious manner. Diqui James created a show that allows the audience to think for themselves and to take their own experiences and the visuals/sounds and interpret them as is. He is speaking to a public who isn’t afraid to get "dirty" and inside themselves and allows them to feel all emotions without limitations. He is letting them create their own ideas of the visuals they are seeing and the sounds they are hearing. Of course, I have my own ideas of what it’s all about, but then if I told you it wouldn’t be as fun!
What are your co-performers like? How were you guys chosen?
My co-performers are great! They inspire me to be better as a person and an artist, but I believe that everybody is a teacher and a student. We are all here to guide each other through life. I learn from the audience every night just as I do from my cast members and the show. That’s what is so great about Fuerzabruta - the audience does it with us! It’s not just 13 cast members, it’s actually 513! This show would be impossible to do without the energy of the audience.
As far as being chosen...I came in from the start, so I helped in the process of the creation when Diqui was making his vision into the reality it is now. All the other cast members went through an audition process. They danced murga (an Argentine dance that is in the show), they ran on the oversized treadmill, and the girls played in the milar (that’s what we call the giant pool).
What’s your favorite part of Fuerzabruta?
My favorite part of being in Fuerzabruta is that I get to play every night, and they pay me for it! I look forward to just simply coming to work and having a place where I can just let go and have fun with people, and to see the audience really enjoy every moment and leave with huge smiles on their faces. Many of them even come back a second and third time! My favorite part in the show, is dancing the murga. I identify with it and it feels really good to my body. It’s a great way of just letting go and simply being.
What are your plans for the future?
I live in the moment. Every second is important, because you never know when those seconds will stop coming. Focusing on the future only takes you away from the present.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Saturday, December 1, 2007
La Tiendita
Name: Luna Bella Avila
Occupation: Arts Programs Associate of the Lower Eastside Girls Club and La Tiendita Manager
Age: 26
Barrio: Lower East Side
Roots: Ecuadorian-Dominican
How long have you been running La Tiendita?
Since its inception, last fall.
How and when did the idea of La Tiendita originate?
Last fall, we were trying to come up with a way to teach our girls about running a business, teach our neighborhood about buying fair-trade and local, and a place where we can sell our great products. Easy answer: open up a store.
How many people are involved in operating it? Who specifically?
Most of our programs are interconnected so we all help each other out. The gallery, performance series, and bake shop all have a relationship with La Tiendita. Orders to Sweet Things Bake Shop often involve La Tiendita, and vice versa. It’s an intertwined family.
Who makes the items?
Some items are made by women in Africa and some by women in Chiapas, Mexico. Some are made by our gallery artists, some by our performance artists. Some are made by our girls, and some are even made by our staff. We have a wide range of things in the store. You might find a chicken made out of plastic bags from Africa, or a stuffed teddy bear made by our girls.
How are the profits distributed? Where does it go?
It goes to a variety of places, depending on where it came from. All of the proceeds from products from Mexico go directly to our sister girls club - Club Balam.
What are some of the most popular items sold? Prices?
Our rose pins, made completely of recycled materials, are made by our girls. They are a hot item, and cost $2.50. People absolutely LOVE the plastic chickens, which come in different sizes and are made from plastic shopping bags. And of course, our Girls Club tee-shirts, which can be reconstructed on-site, are often snatched up.
What is its relationship to the Lower East Side Girls Club?
It is the second small business run by the Lower East Side Girls Club, and it was started as a way to teach members in our neighborhood about buying fair-trade. It was also set up as a teaching tool for our girls to learn about running a business and selling their wares.
Who have been some of your most interesting customers?
I once had a customer who had a lot to teach me about a doll we carry. I thought it was just a cute doll of a mother and child from Chiapas, but she demonstrated how the baby could be inserted into her tummy, attached to her nipples, or held by buttons that were strategically placed. She then bought all of our stock of mother child dolls.
Favorite/least favorite thing about NYC?
I love New York. I love to tell people that not only am I a New Yorker, I am a NATIVE New Yorker. New York is ever changing, but it’s the old spots that make it home.
Plans for the future?
I love The Girls Club. There is an in office joke about the first members being trained to become the future women who run the Girls Club, but to me it isn’t a joke.
For more info.:
http://www.girlsclub.org/store
http://www.girlsclubworldwide.org
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Occupation: Arts Programs Associate of the Lower Eastside Girls Club and La Tiendita Manager
Age: 26
Barrio: Lower East Side
Roots: Ecuadorian-Dominican
How long have you been running La Tiendita?
Since its inception, last fall.
How and when did the idea of La Tiendita originate?
Last fall, we were trying to come up with a way to teach our girls about running a business, teach our neighborhood about buying fair-trade and local, and a place where we can sell our great products. Easy answer: open up a store.
How many people are involved in operating it? Who specifically?
Most of our programs are interconnected so we all help each other out. The gallery, performance series, and bake shop all have a relationship with La Tiendita. Orders to Sweet Things Bake Shop often involve La Tiendita, and vice versa. It’s an intertwined family.
Who makes the items?
Some items are made by women in Africa and some by women in Chiapas, Mexico. Some are made by our gallery artists, some by our performance artists. Some are made by our girls, and some are even made by our staff. We have a wide range of things in the store. You might find a chicken made out of plastic bags from Africa, or a stuffed teddy bear made by our girls.
How are the profits distributed? Where does it go?
It goes to a variety of places, depending on where it came from. All of the proceeds from products from Mexico go directly to our sister girls club - Club Balam.
What are some of the most popular items sold? Prices?
Our rose pins, made completely of recycled materials, are made by our girls. They are a hot item, and cost $2.50. People absolutely LOVE the plastic chickens, which come in different sizes and are made from plastic shopping bags. And of course, our Girls Club tee-shirts, which can be reconstructed on-site, are often snatched up.
What is its relationship to the Lower East Side Girls Club?
It is the second small business run by the Lower East Side Girls Club, and it was started as a way to teach members in our neighborhood about buying fair-trade. It was also set up as a teaching tool for our girls to learn about running a business and selling their wares.
Who have been some of your most interesting customers?
I once had a customer who had a lot to teach me about a doll we carry. I thought it was just a cute doll of a mother and child from Chiapas, but she demonstrated how the baby could be inserted into her tummy, attached to her nipples, or held by buttons that were strategically placed. She then bought all of our stock of mother child dolls.
Favorite/least favorite thing about NYC?
I love New York. I love to tell people that not only am I a New Yorker, I am a NATIVE New Yorker. New York is ever changing, but it’s the old spots that make it home.
Plans for the future?
I love The Girls Club. There is an in office joke about the first members being trained to become the future women who run the Girls Club, but to me it isn’t a joke.
For more info.:
http://www.girlsclub.org/store
http://www.girlsclubworldwide.org
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Saying Adios to Carlitos Café
As many of you already know, Carlitos Café y Galeria is closing this month due to the end of its five year lease. Sadly, gentrification has made it impossible for this haven of live music, art, community activisim, film screenings, and just good old fashioned passing the time with the regulars, to stay open. Founder Eliana tells us how it all began, as well as her thoughts for a bright future.
Name: Carla Eliana Godoy Laguna
Occupation: Cultural worker and social entrepreneur
Ethnicity: Latina
How long have you lived in NYC?
I was born in La Paz, Bolivia and moved to Massachusetts when I was 13 years old. A company I was working for in Boston relocated me to New York City in 1997. I have been living here ever since.
What sparked the idea for Carlitos Cafe?
I had recently moved to New York City and was living in Astoria. I had decided to quit my job to start a not-for-profit organization called Art for Change. As I was thinking of ways to fund the organization, I thought of opening up something that resembled a South American peña - a warm, community place where people could comfortably gather for music, theater, and just to connect.
How did you pick the location?
I have been living in East Harlem for the past eight years. East Harlem is where I started Art for Change and where I consider home while I live in this part of the world.
Who were the regulars of Carlitos?
Carlitos was frequented by neighborhood characters and other people looking for live music, art, poetry, and a cool place to visit. However, a lot of people came from all boroughs, as well as New Jersey, upstate, and from all over the world.
How did you come up with the name?
I wanted to name the small business after my grandfather who, with my grandmother, had a hostel and family restaurant in Uyuni - a little town in Potosi, Bolivia. In this little hostel, my grandfather, Don Carlitos, would host and entertain community members and travelers who would pass by the little town. He was very loved and respected in the town as he often helped out by giving food away to people and fixing problems in the community.
What would you say was the most popular Carlitos activity?
The most popular activity at Carlitos has been the Tuesday night "Open Mic." It’s the longest-running event we have had, and it always features a wide range of talented artists.
Your favorite Carlitos memory?
There are just too many favorite Carlitos memories, the best ones are the times when, out of the blue, connections were made allowing people to share their heartfelt personal stories, their country’s social issues, and other topics that bring people together. Then, there are those times when everyone in the room went into a loving, groovy dance trance, really feeling each other and the music.
The worst?
It has been challenging to work full-time at Art for Change and run Carlitos at the same time, which is also a full-time job.
Ideas for the future?
I am interested in building small cooperatives in East Harlem that provide job training and internships for youth, as well as provide job opportunities for young artists.
Last words for now…
Carlitos will re-open again somewhere in the world. For all of you who came to share it with us, I hope you experienced the magical moments of Carlitos and recognized the importance of venues like this have in our communities; places that give voice to people and capture the essence and beauty of their stories, struggles, dreams and aspirations.
We’re going to have big party on our closing day, Thursday, November 29, and we’ll be open every day from 11 a.m. (except Thanksgiving). Until then, we will be selling items at our new gift shop, and recording memories on video at night for people to share their experiences at Carlitos.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Viva Celia!
No matter how well-done the production, or how intriguing the plot, sometimes when actors break out into song and dance at haphazard moments in a play, I can’t help but cringe in my seat. In Celia: The Life & Music of Celia Cruz at New World Stages, however, the musical components of this production gave me the sensation of watching the real Celia Cruz perform live. Music for this play was appropriate. It made sense, because the essence of Celia Cruz was music. With three Grammy awards and four Latin Grammys, she was known throughout the world as the “Queen of Salsa” and “La Guarachera de Cuba.” Maybe it was because the scenes were based on memories from her late husband, Pedro Knight, or maybe it was because the woman who plays her, Xiomara Laugart, is another world-renowned Cuban vocalist, but though it’s been more than four years since her death, everything about this musical emanated Cruz’ energy.
After the robust opening song, "Toro Mata" (an Afro-Peruvian folk song which Cruz popularized outside of Peru with her salsa rendition), Modesto Lacén appeared on the stage, bearing a striking resemblance to Celia’s husband of 41 years. In a dark suit and white sideburns, he played an integral role in the performance. It’s just like Celia would’ve wanted it, as he reminisced with quivering hands and a feeble voice about how she always wanted to introduce him to the public. His memories took us on a chronological journey through the beginning of her fame in Cuba with the group Sonora Matancera, where they met, through her differences with Fidel Castro who banned her, and her music, from Cuba - finally forcing them to leave their beloved homeland. At 35, Cruz moved to New York where she began her solo career including collaborations with Tito Puente, Johnny Pacheco and the Fania All Stars.
Written by Carmen Rivera and Candido Tirado, directed by Jaime Azpilicueta and produced by Daddy Yankee, the production was better than I could have hoped for. It was indeed a celebration of her life and music. It was a love story primarily between Celia and her husband, but also of her fans, her Cuba, and her dream. The scenic design was simple and elegant, the costumes precise, and the seven-person band perfected the memorial tribute to the cherished singer by playing some of her top hits such as, “Quimbara,” "Cúcula," and “La Negra Tiene Tumba’o.”
Sunilda Caraballo, who has made appearances in El Repertorio Español and the Puerto Rican Traveling Theatre, played the role of Celia when she wasn’t singing. She did a competent job reenacting Cruz’ physical mannerisms, but Laugart gave the character her soul - la música. In 2003, Laugart was nominated for a Grammy for President Alien (Best Latin Rock/Alternative Album) as the then lead singer of the funky bilingual collective Yerba Buena, headed by Andrés Levín. Last year, she released her first solo project entitled Xiomara.
Both Cruz and Laugart began their singing careers in Cuba in their early teens. They both traveled the world sharing their unforgettable voices and deep laugh. However, no matter how talented they both are as vocalists, Laugart proved that no matter how excellent she can sing, and she was excellent - no one can take the place of Celia Cruz. Even though she successfully captured the spirit of her songs, as she made the crowd clap and sing along at the edges of their seats, I couldn’t help but notice Cruz’s gargantuan smile missing as Laugart exited the stage after an emotive finale of “La Vida es Carnival.”
Cruz was only able to return to Cuba once more after her extradition, for a performance at the U.S. Naval Base at Guantanamo Bay which Laugart reenacted during the show. When Cruz died from brain cancer at the age of 77 in 2003, her longtime wish was granted and she was buried with Cuban soil which she had saved from that last trip.
But we are reminded not to be sad, as we’re fighting back tears and getting up from our chairs to clap and dance to "No hay que llorar...las penas se van cantando..." It’s just as she would’ve wanted it - even down to the tropical tasting sangria being sold at the concession stand.
Azucar!
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
After the robust opening song, "Toro Mata" (an Afro-Peruvian folk song which Cruz popularized outside of Peru with her salsa rendition), Modesto Lacén appeared on the stage, bearing a striking resemblance to Celia’s husband of 41 years. In a dark suit and white sideburns, he played an integral role in the performance. It’s just like Celia would’ve wanted it, as he reminisced with quivering hands and a feeble voice about how she always wanted to introduce him to the public. His memories took us on a chronological journey through the beginning of her fame in Cuba with the group Sonora Matancera, where they met, through her differences with Fidel Castro who banned her, and her music, from Cuba - finally forcing them to leave their beloved homeland. At 35, Cruz moved to New York where she began her solo career including collaborations with Tito Puente, Johnny Pacheco and the Fania All Stars.
Written by Carmen Rivera and Candido Tirado, directed by Jaime Azpilicueta and produced by Daddy Yankee, the production was better than I could have hoped for. It was indeed a celebration of her life and music. It was a love story primarily between Celia and her husband, but also of her fans, her Cuba, and her dream. The scenic design was simple and elegant, the costumes precise, and the seven-person band perfected the memorial tribute to the cherished singer by playing some of her top hits such as, “Quimbara,” "Cúcula," and “La Negra Tiene Tumba’o.”
Sunilda Caraballo, who has made appearances in El Repertorio Español and the Puerto Rican Traveling Theatre, played the role of Celia when she wasn’t singing. She did a competent job reenacting Cruz’ physical mannerisms, but Laugart gave the character her soul - la música. In 2003, Laugart was nominated for a Grammy for President Alien (Best Latin Rock/Alternative Album) as the then lead singer of the funky bilingual collective Yerba Buena, headed by Andrés Levín. Last year, she released her first solo project entitled Xiomara.
Both Cruz and Laugart began their singing careers in Cuba in their early teens. They both traveled the world sharing their unforgettable voices and deep laugh. However, no matter how talented they both are as vocalists, Laugart proved that no matter how excellent she can sing, and she was excellent - no one can take the place of Celia Cruz. Even though she successfully captured the spirit of her songs, as she made the crowd clap and sing along at the edges of their seats, I couldn’t help but notice Cruz’s gargantuan smile missing as Laugart exited the stage after an emotive finale of “La Vida es Carnival.”
Cruz was only able to return to Cuba once more after her extradition, for a performance at the U.S. Naval Base at Guantanamo Bay which Laugart reenacted during the show. When Cruz died from brain cancer at the age of 77 in 2003, her longtime wish was granted and she was buried with Cuban soil which she had saved from that last trip.
But we are reminded not to be sad, as we’re fighting back tears and getting up from our chairs to clap and dance to "No hay que llorar...las penas se van cantando..." It’s just as she would’ve wanted it - even down to the tropical tasting sangria being sold at the concession stand.
Azucar!
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Human Trafficking in Jackson Heights
Jackson Heights, Queens has long been known as a neighborhood where practically anything could be bought for the right price, from stolen clothes to false social security numbers. But in recent years, police say the hottest black market item has become women, as the melting-pot barrio fast becomes the city’s epicenter for human trafficking.
As immigration laws grow ever tighter in the aftermath of the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks, traffickers have expertly targeted young Latin American women desperate to immigrate, luring them with promises of green cards and New York restaurant jobs. Once here, the girls--some as young as 15--discover they’ve instead sold themselves into prostitution, with no way out.
Typically, say police and activists, the traffickers transport the women directly from their homes in the Dominican Republic, Colombia, Mexico, and Peru, among other countries, straight to New York. Once here, they’re kept under a close watch, and are often unable to escape in an unfamiliar environment.
"Most of these houses are run by gangs," says Detective Al Rojas of the 110th Precinct in East Elmhurst. "Sometimes the girl’s passport and identity is taken [which makes it harder for them to] leave."
The women earn only about $10 per trick out of the $40 each man pays, leaving them with little economic power. Plus, their bosses may threaten them with retaliation if the women try to escape--or even insinuate they’ll attack the girls’ families back home if they turn rebellious.
Rojas says the best tool police have to help these women is to arrest them, since many of them don’t realize the city has services in place to help them. At this point, says Rojas, the 110th Precinct makes 30 or more such arrests per month.
None of the women--or their "johns"--were willing to go on the record with us, so it’s hard to determine much about their lives. But, according to Ximena Morgan, director of programs and development at the Hispanic AIDS Forum, there’s been one clear shift in recent years: the women’s age. About a decade ago most of the women involved in sex trafficking were in their mid-30’s to mid-40’s, says Morgan, but within the past year, she’s noticed a lot more younger women, between the ages of 17 and 18.
Those familiar with the trade suspect it’s also had a larger impact on the neighborhood: a rise in HIV infections.
"Girls get raped, and HIV increases," Rojas says. "Guys then transmit HIV to their wives."
In 2006, Queens had more people living with HIV/AIDS than in 40 states, and while health workers have no way of knowing how much of that is thanks to the sex trade, empirical evidence seems to point to that the number is growing. A major problem is that since many undocumented immigrants lack health insurance, or are afraid to access public health care, those who are infected with HIV may go undiagnosed for a longer time than others, creating a longer window for them to infect others. (And sadly, the New York Times tells us they may be taking the disease to rural Mexico.)
Centers such as the Hispanic AIDS Forum, Administration for Children and Families, Elmhurst Hospital Center, and Safe Horizon are some of the resources that offer counseling services for young people with HIV/AIDS, as well as victims of sex trafficking.
However, says Morgan, it’s extremely difficult to get the women to step forward. "Sometimes they don’t feel like pursuing [help], because they have to dedicate all this time and money,’’ she says. "Like a rape victim, they have to prove that this actually happened, and the courts aren’t extremely friendly either."
As it is now, "Sometimes it’s more important (for them) to not get hit that day…or to eat that day," said Morgan.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
As immigration laws grow ever tighter in the aftermath of the Sept. 11th terrorist attacks, traffickers have expertly targeted young Latin American women desperate to immigrate, luring them with promises of green cards and New York restaurant jobs. Once here, the girls--some as young as 15--discover they’ve instead sold themselves into prostitution, with no way out.
Typically, say police and activists, the traffickers transport the women directly from their homes in the Dominican Republic, Colombia, Mexico, and Peru, among other countries, straight to New York. Once here, they’re kept under a close watch, and are often unable to escape in an unfamiliar environment.
"Most of these houses are run by gangs," says Detective Al Rojas of the 110th Precinct in East Elmhurst. "Sometimes the girl’s passport and identity is taken [which makes it harder for them to] leave."
The women earn only about $10 per trick out of the $40 each man pays, leaving them with little economic power. Plus, their bosses may threaten them with retaliation if the women try to escape--or even insinuate they’ll attack the girls’ families back home if they turn rebellious.
Rojas says the best tool police have to help these women is to arrest them, since many of them don’t realize the city has services in place to help them. At this point, says Rojas, the 110th Precinct makes 30 or more such arrests per month.
None of the women--or their "johns"--were willing to go on the record with us, so it’s hard to determine much about their lives. But, according to Ximena Morgan, director of programs and development at the Hispanic AIDS Forum, there’s been one clear shift in recent years: the women’s age. About a decade ago most of the women involved in sex trafficking were in their mid-30’s to mid-40’s, says Morgan, but within the past year, she’s noticed a lot more younger women, between the ages of 17 and 18.
Those familiar with the trade suspect it’s also had a larger impact on the neighborhood: a rise in HIV infections.
"Girls get raped, and HIV increases," Rojas says. "Guys then transmit HIV to their wives."
In 2006, Queens had more people living with HIV/AIDS than in 40 states, and while health workers have no way of knowing how much of that is thanks to the sex trade, empirical evidence seems to point to that the number is growing. A major problem is that since many undocumented immigrants lack health insurance, or are afraid to access public health care, those who are infected with HIV may go undiagnosed for a longer time than others, creating a longer window for them to infect others. (And sadly, the New York Times tells us they may be taking the disease to rural Mexico.)
Centers such as the Hispanic AIDS Forum, Administration for Children and Families, Elmhurst Hospital Center, and Safe Horizon are some of the resources that offer counseling services for young people with HIV/AIDS, as well as victims of sex trafficking.
However, says Morgan, it’s extremely difficult to get the women to step forward. "Sometimes they don’t feel like pursuing [help], because they have to dedicate all this time and money,’’ she says. "Like a rape victim, they have to prove that this actually happened, and the courts aren’t extremely friendly either."
As it is now, "Sometimes it’s more important (for them) to not get hit that day…or to eat that day," said Morgan.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Felicia Luna Lemus
Felicia Luna Lemus, the author of novels, Like Son (2007) and Trace Elements of Random Tea Parties (2003) is amongst 15 other animated Latino writers featured in the new hysterical anthology Fifteen Candles: 15 Tales of Taffeta, Hairspray, Drunk Uncles, and other Quinceañera Stories (2007). If it were up to her, as she describes in detail in Quince Never Was, she would have had a Goth quinceañera and worn “so much white powder that [she would have] resembled a Día de los Muertos altar sugar calavera.” Here are some tidbits about this true cosmopolatina originally from California, but now more New Yorker than anything…
Name: Felicia Luna Lemus
Profession: Author
Ethnicity: Chicana/Mexican-American
Age: 32
Barrio: East Village, New York City
Favorite writer and/or book?
To choose just one would feel sacrilege, but a book I’m reading right now that I really love is Sorry, Tree by Eileen Myles. It’s literary, punk, succinct, and brilliantly perfect.
Most embarrassing/random job you have ever had?
I’ve never really had any embarrassing jobs, but my behavior was embarrassing when I was a coffee house manager in my late teens and early twenties. I was pathetically uptight about things like how to make a “proper” latte and the atrocity of burned bagels. Total buzz kill co-worker.
How old were you when you wrote your first book Trace Elements of Random Tea Parties?
I was 22 when I started writing it and 28 when Farrar, Straus & Giroux published it.
Were you a writer since your Goth days in high school? How did you discover your talent?
I’ve always had a slightly perverse love affair with books. Each summer of my childhood, I was the nerdy kid who won the public library’s reading contest. I read voraciously and constantly. It probably would have served me well to be outdoors and making friends instead, but books were my world. When I was in third grade, I wrote what I jokingly refer to as my true first novel. The book—hand bound and illustrated by me in an edition of one—was about the adventures of Snoopy and an evil twin I created for him. It wasn’t until after college that I did the ridiculous and decided to give this writing thing a go professionally. Now I can’t imagine a different life. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t play with words for a living.
What was your favorite quinceañera like that you ever attended? (I’m sure none of them were as cool as your would-be Goth one)...
My favorite quinceañera was the one I never got to have - the one I describe in my story Quince Never Was.
Did your friend ever throw that Flash Gordon themed quinceañera?
I’ll take that answer to my grave. A little mystery keeps life interesting.
What’s your opinion about quinceañeras now? If you had a daughter, would you throw her one?
Hypothetically speaking, if I had a daughter, and if said daughter wanted a quinceañera, I would probably agree to throw her one—after a long discussion on feminism, gender performativity, and post-colonial social resistance. The fact that I’m not Catholic and that I imagine said daughter wouldn’t be either (but who knows, maybe she would be…) might be a complicating factor, but I’m sure we could figure out some progressive and radical way to make her quinceañera rock our hypothetical world.
This was a busy year for you with the publication of your second book, Like Son. Do you have plans for a third novel?
It has been a busy year, and I love it! I’m in the early stages of writing my third novel. It’s all super-duper top-secret right now, but I can guarantee that if you liked Quince Never Was, you’ll dig my next novel.
What do you love/hate most about NYC?
I love New York’s contradictions. Here it is, the United States’ most cosmopolitan, global, bustling city--absolutely anything goes here--but at the same time, my street feels like a true neighborhood. Some of my neighbors have lived here for generations, others have only lived here for a few years, but people truly take time to say hello to each other on the street, we watch out for each other, and we take pride in our home.
As for what I dislike about this perfect city…I get sad for how polluted New York gets. There are some days in the summer when the view up 1st Avenue from Houston is pure smog haze. Oh, and I really dislike the fact that so many people don’t pick up their dog’s poop. Nasty.
If you could live anywhere else, where would it be?
If I couldn’t live here, I’d probably implode into a puff of smoke and simply vanish.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Friday, April 6, 2007
Carlo Albán
Walking out of the Public Theater on April 2nd, I not only learned a word in Spanish that I’d never heard before (in case you were wondering, intríngulis means complex web or ulterior motive – see below), but I also walked out dumbfounded at an outstanding one-man performance. Carlo Albán, most known for his six-year career as “Carlo” on Sesame Street, has also had roles in Strangers with Candy, 21 Grams, Law & Order, Touched by an Angel, and Thicker than Blood, as well as José Rivera’s References to Salvador Dalí Make Me Hot, John Patrick Shanley’s A Winter Party, and Stephen Belber’s A Small Melodramatic Story. In his play, Intríngulis, Carlo, now 28, explores the journey he and his family went through after immigrating from Ecuador to the U.S., and he does so using a creative tornado of singing famous Latin American and American protest songs jumbled with acting out different personalities to tell the story of the immigrant. Ultimately, he demonstrates how we are all alike in the end.
How did you come up with the name of the play?
The title came from the lyrics of one of the songs in the show - specifically Victor Jara’s, Las Casitas del Barrio Alto, (a Spanish adaptation of Pete Seeger’s Little Boxes). When I was ready to do the first reading of the script for my theater company (Labyrinth Theater Co.), I still didn’t have a title. I wanted it to be something that really spoke about the piece, preferably something that was IN the script. At one point, I considered calling it, The Ire of Our People, (as per the novel I tried to write when I was 9) but I thought that was a little too heavy. So finally, right before the reading, as I translated the song lyrics (the last thing I did), I ran across this word, intríngulis, which I had to look up. It means a complex web, or an ulterior motive. I felt it encapsulated the show, and it was a really interesting word that most people don’t know - even Spanish speakers. So it became the title. Later on, I considered changing it, because it’s SO unfamiliar, and maybe somewhat cryptic, but several people convinced me otherwise, and now I love it. I don’t think it’ll change.
What was your reason for and/or sparked writing the play?
I’ve always wanted to tell this story. It’s something I grew up with that screamed out to me to tell, but I couldn’t. So when I finally felt like I could, meaning once I felt safe enough to tell the story, once we were legal, I started developing ideas in my head. I started writing everything I could remember down. I carried a notebook with me at all times (I still do) and whenever I thought of something I would write it down. Eventually I wrote a screenplay, which was kind of a really sanitized version of the story. I put that away once I finished it. The idea to tell the story in the format in which it exists now, as Intríngulis, occurred one day when my Mom had me listen to a recording of Joan Baez singing an old Mexican folk song (La Llorona). I was thrown by the fact that this American singer, who had dated Bob Dylan, was singing Spanish folk songs. It was then that something clicked in my head. I realized the close relationship between musical movements in the U.S. and Latin America - folk music and protest music. From there, the idea for Intríngulis was born, and once again, I started collecting ideas and writing everything down.
Why did you decide to perform each of the characters within the play, and to fragment it the way you did - part music, part different characters, and part your own personal story?
The format was an extension of the writing process. It was conducive to that type of fragmentation. I followed an exercise called "Morning Pages" in which the first thing you do when you get up in the morning is write longhand - a certain number of pages or for a set amount of time. I would write for about an hour every morning. Since the concept was in my head already, most of the time what came out was in some way related to the show. Sometimes they were stories, sometimes they were voices, and sometimes they were random fragments of thoughts. Finally at one point, I typed all the material I had, and I started cutting and pasting, mixing and matching. I started seeing correlations between some of the voices, and out of that the characters were born. The stories about myself I made cohesive and found a chronological narrative. The music is there because the original spark came from music, and because music has always been an integral part of me. It’s also something I wanted to share, because I think that music is just so beautiful. It’s something my parents gave me and which I will always carry with me.
How long did it take you to write it?
I did the original script over a period of nine months, but I’ve worked on it a lot since then, and I’m still working on it. It’s very much a work in progress. So, I guess you could say it’s taken me two and a half years so far.
Where do you live now?
I split my time between NJ and NYC.
How did you get a job at Sesame Street? How old were you?
Sesame Street was another audition among hundreds. Originally I auditioned for the 25th Anniversary Special which they shot in Central Park. They liked me and carried me over to the show. I was fourteen when I started.
You are one of the most multi-talented people I have ever seen. Have you always had a calling for performing? How did you realize it?
I’ve always sang - not in a performance setting though - more like, in the shower, on road trips, or along with the stereo. As far as acting, I never had any intentions of becoming an actor. I fell into it when I was 11. My family was visiting some friends in Union City, NJ, and their children were auditioning for a community theater production of Oliver, so my brother and I went along just to accompany them. Because they needed little orphan boys, they assumed that we were there to audition as well, so they gave us sides, gave us music and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer when we told them we were only there to watch. I ended up being cast as Oliver and my brother as one of the orphans. I met my agent there. Shortly thereafter, she started sending me out on auditions. Three years later, I got on Sesame Street.
Now that you are a citizen, do you think all the struggle was worth it in the end?
Absolutely.
Do you work anywhere else by day?
I’ve had all kinds of jobs along the way. I’ve worked in the kitchen of a pizzeria, as a bartender, busboy, video editor, bike messenger, teaching artist...You never know when the next opportunity is going to present itself.
I could tell by watching the play that you love NJ, but what is your favorite thing about NYC?
New York is the most diverse city I’ve ever experienced. I love the energy that stems out of the myriad cultures that meet there. There’s a little bit of every part of the world I think.
What does "cosmopolatino" mean to you?
Hmm...a cranberry and vodka cocktail on a caribbean beach…? Or not…Well, in this day and age, with so much instant connection, I think it is what everyone will eventually be...Not only cosmopolatino, but cosmopoeuropeo, cosmopoafricano, cosmopoaustraliano, cosmopoLOQUESEA...It is what this world is fast approaching - a global cosmopolitanism – that is, if we can keep our wits about us, and learn to filter out those who would convince us otherwise.
The last performance of Intríngulis is Monday, April 9 at 7pm. And will take place at Martinson Hall at the Public Theater (425 Lafayette Street). Tickets are on sale now and are available by visiting http:// www.labtheater.org. All tickets are $25.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
How did you come up with the name of the play?
The title came from the lyrics of one of the songs in the show - specifically Victor Jara’s, Las Casitas del Barrio Alto, (a Spanish adaptation of Pete Seeger’s Little Boxes). When I was ready to do the first reading of the script for my theater company (Labyrinth Theater Co.), I still didn’t have a title. I wanted it to be something that really spoke about the piece, preferably something that was IN the script. At one point, I considered calling it, The Ire of Our People, (as per the novel I tried to write when I was 9) but I thought that was a little too heavy. So finally, right before the reading, as I translated the song lyrics (the last thing I did), I ran across this word, intríngulis, which I had to look up. It means a complex web, or an ulterior motive. I felt it encapsulated the show, and it was a really interesting word that most people don’t know - even Spanish speakers. So it became the title. Later on, I considered changing it, because it’s SO unfamiliar, and maybe somewhat cryptic, but several people convinced me otherwise, and now I love it. I don’t think it’ll change.
What was your reason for and/or sparked writing the play?
I’ve always wanted to tell this story. It’s something I grew up with that screamed out to me to tell, but I couldn’t. So when I finally felt like I could, meaning once I felt safe enough to tell the story, once we were legal, I started developing ideas in my head. I started writing everything I could remember down. I carried a notebook with me at all times (I still do) and whenever I thought of something I would write it down. Eventually I wrote a screenplay, which was kind of a really sanitized version of the story. I put that away once I finished it. The idea to tell the story in the format in which it exists now, as Intríngulis, occurred one day when my Mom had me listen to a recording of Joan Baez singing an old Mexican folk song (La Llorona). I was thrown by the fact that this American singer, who had dated Bob Dylan, was singing Spanish folk songs. It was then that something clicked in my head. I realized the close relationship between musical movements in the U.S. and Latin America - folk music and protest music. From there, the idea for Intríngulis was born, and once again, I started collecting ideas and writing everything down.
Why did you decide to perform each of the characters within the play, and to fragment it the way you did - part music, part different characters, and part your own personal story?
The format was an extension of the writing process. It was conducive to that type of fragmentation. I followed an exercise called "Morning Pages" in which the first thing you do when you get up in the morning is write longhand - a certain number of pages or for a set amount of time. I would write for about an hour every morning. Since the concept was in my head already, most of the time what came out was in some way related to the show. Sometimes they were stories, sometimes they were voices, and sometimes they were random fragments of thoughts. Finally at one point, I typed all the material I had, and I started cutting and pasting, mixing and matching. I started seeing correlations between some of the voices, and out of that the characters were born. The stories about myself I made cohesive and found a chronological narrative. The music is there because the original spark came from music, and because music has always been an integral part of me. It’s also something I wanted to share, because I think that music is just so beautiful. It’s something my parents gave me and which I will always carry with me.
How long did it take you to write it?
I did the original script over a period of nine months, but I’ve worked on it a lot since then, and I’m still working on it. It’s very much a work in progress. So, I guess you could say it’s taken me two and a half years so far.
Where do you live now?
I split my time between NJ and NYC.
How did you get a job at Sesame Street? How old were you?
Sesame Street was another audition among hundreds. Originally I auditioned for the 25th Anniversary Special which they shot in Central Park. They liked me and carried me over to the show. I was fourteen when I started.
You are one of the most multi-talented people I have ever seen. Have you always had a calling for performing? How did you realize it?
I’ve always sang - not in a performance setting though - more like, in the shower, on road trips, or along with the stereo. As far as acting, I never had any intentions of becoming an actor. I fell into it when I was 11. My family was visiting some friends in Union City, NJ, and their children were auditioning for a community theater production of Oliver, so my brother and I went along just to accompany them. Because they needed little orphan boys, they assumed that we were there to audition as well, so they gave us sides, gave us music and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer when we told them we were only there to watch. I ended up being cast as Oliver and my brother as one of the orphans. I met my agent there. Shortly thereafter, she started sending me out on auditions. Three years later, I got on Sesame Street.
Now that you are a citizen, do you think all the struggle was worth it in the end?
Absolutely.
Do you work anywhere else by day?
I’ve had all kinds of jobs along the way. I’ve worked in the kitchen of a pizzeria, as a bartender, busboy, video editor, bike messenger, teaching artist...You never know when the next opportunity is going to present itself.
I could tell by watching the play that you love NJ, but what is your favorite thing about NYC?
New York is the most diverse city I’ve ever experienced. I love the energy that stems out of the myriad cultures that meet there. There’s a little bit of every part of the world I think.
What does "cosmopolatino" mean to you?
Hmm...a cranberry and vodka cocktail on a caribbean beach…? Or not…Well, in this day and age, with so much instant connection, I think it is what everyone will eventually be...Not only cosmopolatino, but cosmopoeuropeo, cosmopoafricano, cosmopoaustraliano, cosmopoLOQUESEA...It is what this world is fast approaching - a global cosmopolitanism – that is, if we can keep our wits about us, and learn to filter out those who would convince us otherwise.
The last performance of Intríngulis is Monday, April 9 at 7pm. And will take place at Martinson Hall at the Public Theater (425 Lafayette Street). Tickets are on sale now and are available by visiting http:// www.labtheater.org. All tickets are $25.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
La Sirena Brings Mexican Folk Art to L.E.S.
I finally stopped by La Sirena Mexican Folk Art during its recent sale. The quaint, cozy store on East 3rd St. is filled with colorful Mexican trinkets of all kinds. I felt as if I stumbled upon a little Mexican heaven - while my eyes soaked in all of the bright colors, my ears were happily listening to cumbia sonidera, and the smell of incense created a warm vibe. This is the place to go if you need books about lucha libre, papel picado, or milagros to pray with. Below are some words I exchanged with the owner, Dina Leor…
Name: Dina Leor
Occupation: Store owner of La Sirena for the past 7.5 years
Location: 27 East 3rd Street (Between Second Avenue and Bowery)
Ethnicity: My Mom is Argentinian, but I was born and am still living on the island of Manhattan.
What area did you grow up? Upper West SideWhat gave you the idea to open the store? When I was 13, I almost ran away to Mexico, because I loved it so much. We used to go to Mexico after visiting family in Argentina. I still cry every time I come back. Later, when I became an art teacher at Bellevue Hospital, I used to go to Mexico to recoup during any free time that I got, because the job was very intense. I would bring stuff back from Mexico, and people started asking me to bring them things. After I stopped teaching, I started to sell my stuff on St. Mark’s Place. After that, the idea of opening a store came about.
How did you think of the name “La Sirena”? I love the ocean and sirenas, and I just happen to be a pisces. They used to call me sirena when I was little.
What are some of the most popular items you sell? Lots of lucha libre and religious stuff, Virgen de Guadalupe sweatshirts and handmade jewelry.
Who have been some of your most interesting customers? Gael García Bernal, Lila Downs…a lot of my customers fascinate me – it’s like a little social happening. I love it when Mexican families come here, because I feel like they can have their culture here. During Christmas, they bought nacimientos here.
What do you love about NYC? I love the cultural diversity – the people, the food, and mix of colors.
What do you hate? The noise and cell phones!
Future plans? A lot of undocumented immigrants are artisans, and my dream is to have a bigger place so that I can have classes and have more room for people to make things.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
Name: Dina Leor
Occupation: Store owner of La Sirena for the past 7.5 years
Location: 27 East 3rd Street (Between Second Avenue and Bowery)
Ethnicity: My Mom is Argentinian, but I was born and am still living on the island of Manhattan.
What area did you grow up? Upper West SideWhat gave you the idea to open the store? When I was 13, I almost ran away to Mexico, because I loved it so much. We used to go to Mexico after visiting family in Argentina. I still cry every time I come back. Later, when I became an art teacher at Bellevue Hospital, I used to go to Mexico to recoup during any free time that I got, because the job was very intense. I would bring stuff back from Mexico, and people started asking me to bring them things. After I stopped teaching, I started to sell my stuff on St. Mark’s Place. After that, the idea of opening a store came about.
How did you think of the name “La Sirena”? I love the ocean and sirenas, and I just happen to be a pisces. They used to call me sirena when I was little.
What are some of the most popular items you sell? Lots of lucha libre and religious stuff, Virgen de Guadalupe sweatshirts and handmade jewelry.
Who have been some of your most interesting customers? Gael García Bernal, Lila Downs…a lot of my customers fascinate me – it’s like a little social happening. I love it when Mexican families come here, because I feel like they can have their culture here. During Christmas, they bought nacimientos here.
What do you love about NYC? I love the cultural diversity – the people, the food, and mix of colors.
What do you hate? The noise and cell phones!
Future plans? A lot of undocumented immigrants are artisans, and my dream is to have a bigger place so that I can have classes and have more room for people to make things.
(Published in NYRemezcla.com)
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