On Playing Maggie: A Wiyot Character in Eureka

 

 

Sage Howard & Adam Sussman look at what is left of Indian Island as we tour around the bay on the Madaket Boat. Massacre and tragedy occurred on this Island, the center of the world for the Wiyot people.

 

by Sage Howard

Oh Eureka.

I remember the first time I learned the word ‘Eureka’. My family had a
Eureka! tent I first remember taking to the Pioneer Mountains in
Montana. The tent was a series of grays, like the series of grays of
the skies in our new home: Eureka, CA. Here in this big tent of
Eurekan sky, surrounding the land locked-bay, we experience varying
degrees of sun or storm shining through the ceiling. Like the tent we
took backpacking, there are no walls, but a gentle slope, like the sky
comes down to touch the bay- and the gray continues.

When you go backpacking, you expect to remember hiking, but like most
expectations, it’s broken. I can’t articulate specific expectations I
had coming to Eureka, but I can articulate some of the ways my
unconscious expectations have been broken. The roller coaster of
emotions, personal, institutional, communal- is overwhelming,
cleansing, hilarious, and ultimately healing. Healing is rarely
without pain, openness, and intense vulnerability. But with
vulnerability comes connection and strength.

So, speaking in abstractions . . . that’s what I have been doing,
which is the first level of universal introduction so you know that
this is a story you can relate to, but now it is time for some
specifics. The biggest expectation broken since I have been here is
the relationship between the Wiyot tribe and us. I entered into the
institute expecting we would have an intense and incredible connection
with the Wiyot tribe, the people native to this particular area. Well,
I assumed wrong. Peter Howard, our playwright, had gone up to the
reservation, Table Bluff, multiple times over the nine months he and
Paula Donnelly were here conducting interviews, hosting story circles
and gathering the material that became the basis of the script.
Peter’s invitations to participate, which were careful, respectful and
thoughtful were met with a closed and silent reception on the
reservation.

I want to highlight that Peter is one of the most thoughtful,
respectful and intelligent human beings I have ever met, let alone
worked with. This tangent is to emphasize that his choice to include
only one Wiyot woman in the show, Maggie, was a carefully considered
and a wise choice because we did not know if we would have any people
of Wiyot heritage come to auditions. Leah and Leslie followed up
Peter’s invitations by returning to the reservation, posted signs
about auditions, and engaged in gentle conversations with the cool
reception they received as well.

Now, I want to make sure that this does not sound like I am placing
blame on the people who work at the reservation cultural center or
(what we have perceived to be) the Wiyot decision to not open up and
jump on board. Who are we to come crashing into a community and demand
stories? Their history and relationship to this land is one of
struggle and there is an immense amount of pain that lives in the air.
This one play, this one month, is not the place to tell their story.
It’s theirs. A play will not solve the pain and complications of what
they have experienced.

So, what is this history and pain that I allude to? As all Native
tribes, the Wiyot people suffered massacres, relocations and harsh
assimilation. Specifically, there was an intense effort to eradicate
the Wiyot population because the center of their world was the bay and
the land and islands of Eureka, sought after intensely by the
settlers. There was a devastating massacre in February 1860 that
interrupted a sacred dance celebration that marked the renewal of
their world each year. Hundreds of people were killed in one night in
an organized effort by settlers who were coexisting previously with
the Native People. I cannot give you all the information now, but I
urge you to check out these website and read further the history of
the Wiyot people and the projects they are currently undergoing to
rebuild their culture:
The general website where you can find a further history:
http://www.wiyot.com

On rebuilding Indian Island, the center of the Wiyot world where the
New Year celebration took place for thousands of years:
http://www.wiyot.com/tuluwat-project

Clearly, Jason and the Golden Fleece is not the story of Eureka. This
is a story of Eureka. That said, we couldn’t leave that vital voice
out of story either. We hoped that there would be a voice of Maggie
who was Wiyot, and so eagerly we waited at auditions for that magical
woman to walk through the door.

No one came.

There were discussions in the casting meetings of representation and
how to cast this role. These discussions, I imagine paralleled the
discussions that we have had in class, about our responsibility
creating community-based theater. This work will change the places and
people that we work with. How we speak about things and how we
approach the work. Through this conversation, Laurie and Peter decided
to cast me as the Wiyot women, Maggie. This is has been an incredible
challenge. I don’t know that I have ever felt such responsibility as
an actress. The value of having the community immediately there
hightens the responsibility for honesty and truth. Time to do
homework.

So, Ramy and I went up to the Reservation, Table bluff, this past
Monday. We met two amazing people: a linguist, Lynnika Butler and Ben
Brown.  Lynnika is the official Language Project Manager on the
reservation, who is trying to rebuild the language, learning the
language and teaching the language.  Quite apt to talk to her because
Maggie, the woman I am playing in the show is also a linguist trying
to revive the language. Ben is currently cataloguing the artifacts
from burial grounds that are being returned to the Wiyot community
under the NAGPRA, Native American Grader Protection Repatriation Act.
Ben is also in charge of all the Native American artifacts at the
Clark Museum in Historic Downtown. While they were a little bit
skeptical when we came into the center asking if we could talk tot hem
because we were theater artists from Los Angeles. Speaking honestly
about the project and our desire to be accurate and respectful of the
history, struggle and beauty of their community opened Ben and Lynnica
up. Ben happened to be going to the Clark, although it was Monday and
the museum was closed, he offered to give us a private tour of his
area of expertise. Yes. So, we met him on the steps of this grand old
building down town.

Ben Brown gave us an amazing tour, but the discussion brought up was
priceless. I can’t tell all now, but I will give you an example of the
holistic power of the people who were here and lived in the bay
‘pre-contact.’ What struck me most was the holistic nature of life
practiced, lived, by all the tribes. I recognize that I am going to
sound idealistic, simplistic and overly romantic about their
connection to nature, spirit and their place in the cosmos here.
Really, I am in awe. Humbled. Everything in their life was a balanced
mixture of spiritual and functional. Their baskets, for example, are
intricate simple patters of tightly woven reeds and grasses. Everyone
wore a woven cap and the baskets were used everyday in everything from
storage, collection to boiling water. Yes, they created a basket that
was watertight and could with stain heat. Ramy asked a simple and
powerful question, “Where these functional or do the patterns have
specific meaning?” Ben replied, “Well it was certainly not Church on
Sunday, work on Monday. The functional and spiritual was woven into
everything. It was holistic . . . (he was at a loss of the right
words). The women wove the baskets and the patterns came from their
dreams. When they wove the baskets, they said a prayer with every
knot.” Wow. No wonder the grass held in the water and could also
withstand fire. Such incredible intension in each action. We continued
on and I asked about how they chose their leaders. Ben told us that
they were the wealthiest members of the community. That seemed odd and
I was a little put off as we wandered over to the next display case
where Ben pointed out the thin shells, NAME, used as currency. “This
was their money,” Ben said, “But you have to understand that it was
not exchanged for materials as much as it was a moral currency. If you
did someone wrong you had to pay them. Therefore, the people who were
the wealthiest in the community were the ones who cared the most, the
ones who did not do ill to others. They were the most moral upstanding
citizens of their community. They were the caretakers.” What a
concept, to trust and the power of leadership to those who care.

At that point it was time to go on a tour of the bay with the rest of
our Institute community. Eric (the man who owns the Blue Ox) has a
friend who owns The matticate, a wonderful old boat with the smallest
licensed bar in California. They are proud. From the reservation, to
the museum, I was a whirl of history and emotion and thought, and we
launched out into the water, passing by Indian Island, the center of
the Wiyot world. I consider myself to appreciate and love nature, but
I realized on a new level the lack of connection that we have with
place. With trees, water, air, mist and cycles of sun and moon. In
anticipation of going back to LA and Orange county, where I am certain
the majority of citizens do now know the history or the power of the
place they drive over everyday, I want to continue on my own awakening
and invite people to join on their awakening of what was here, what is
here, and what is possible. I do know that if we can make theater like
the Wiyot wove baskets, with a prayer, and intension of every knot, we
can change the world.

More links:

On the language and it’s rebuilding
http://www.wiyot.com/language

Institute Classes

by Victor Vazquez

Almost everyday the Institute participants go to class. Starting at 8:30 or 9am is a 30 minute warm-up lead by one of the students. Thereafter, we sit in a circle and attend to the day’s topic: Creating community-specific text, Directing on a community based context, Collaborative-Community Dance and Choreography, managing, fund raising, budgeting,   Designing a Community-based show, Auditioning, Community Engagement, Story circles, etc. The four-hour class slot is never nearly enough to answer all of our questions, but we’ve realized that our hypothetical questions become answered outside the classroom because Eureka continues to be our classroom. Daily, as we interact with community members, hang lights, run chords, stand on rooftops, listen, hammer, saw, bundle up, hug, hold hands, give notes, share in circles, check in-and-out, smile, cry, run, trip, meet, talk, hang posters and high-five we experience the lessons outside the realm of hypothetical. We engage community, we dance collaboratively with community members amongst the Sequoias’, we audition, build, and witness the magic of community-based theater.

Why isn’t this happening in our schools, in our theatrical studies? Of course we always partake in communities, but the magic of entering a community, listening, and telling a story (not the story) of the community with the community as part of the process is both gratifying and intense. In our nightly company checkouts, which most times occur at 11pm, we have shared our daily stories and lessons. Each day feels like a week, and these past three weeks have felt like seven years. The amount of work and investment that a project like this requires is giant. The passion, and the determination that this project requires is endless. But the rewards are abundant. And the product is inspiring.

Someone here said

“Building the set was easy, building the theater nearly killed us”.

The staff, institute, and community hands have all build a theater where there was none before. The Moulder Building of the Blue Ox Millworks which contains two large machines with a thousand variations of blades work to cut wood into any form and shape you desire- has been transformed into the new stage for “Jason in Eureka”. We, the hands, have all acted as these blades, shaping the building into the theater space of this years Cornerstone Theater Company Institute project. Where else can you find a classroom that will allow you to shape theater outside of conventional space?

Liz Parker (institute participant/actor) and Stacia Torborg (institute participant/Community engagement/photographer) work together to saw wood beams to build the second half of the stage.

Community and Collaborative Dance: with Peter Dimuro

Peter Dimuro in class with the Institute participants at the Seqouia Park in Eureka, Ca.

by Chelsey Gregory 

One of the greatest gifts The Cornerstone Institute has given me is the opportunity to re-inhabit my dancer body.  It has been such an honor and a pleasure to learn from Peter DiMuro and Laurie Woolery how to integrate movement into theater.  I’ve been focused more on theater in the past few years, so it has been a journey to trust my impulses as a dancer and choreographer, and to re-claim a part of me that was all of me for so long.  Peter and Laurie have created and held space for that to happen, and I’m so thankful for their vision, trust and support! 

I’m also thankful to have the opportunity to work with the other members of the Institute, as well as the community members.  I am blown away again and again by everyone’s willingness to apply themselves, take risks and trust each other.  It has also been amazing to watch how the production team and Cornerstone staff have set the tone for that to happen.  The core principles that Cornerstone has set forth- respect, diversity, flexibility, mutual mentorship and transparency have shaped this experience for everyone involved.  There have been moments of conflict, confusion and frustration as with any process, but our leadership team has continued to manage each situation with wisdom, grace and compassion, allowing things to keep moving beyond any obstacles that arise.

I am so glad I was able to be a part of this process, and it will inform the way I live and work for years and years to come.

First Day Off: Monday

Some of us took the van and decided to drive out to Redwoods National Park for a 5 hour hike.

A sight on our hike. True beauty.

Leslie and Leah lay down for a quick rest: We found a meadow of flowers at the end of our hike through the Redwoods.

“Redefining being a theater artist”

 by Ramy Eletreby

For three days, I’ve gotten down and dirty. I don’t consider myself among the community of men known as “handy”. Whenever I need an oil change, I take it for service. I am not a do-it-yourselfer, not in the least; so the fact that I’ve spent these past three days at the Blue Ox Millworks bathed in sawdust is certainly a departure from the norm. I’ve handled giant slabs of redwood and have picked splinters out of my skin. I’ve used a skill saw to cut lumber, a cross-cut saw to cut huge slabs of redwood, a power drill to build staircases and platforms. I’ve ran 50-foot and 100-foot electric cables under rafters, through cobwebs, through holes in the tin walls, up on tin roofs (while being watched by 3 colorful cocks sitting in a tree). I’ve used an actual printing press from 1819 and have had my fingers stained with ink. I’ve hung and mounted ellipsoidals and pars (lighting instruments) with nuts and bolts. The words ‘ellipsoidal’ and ‘par’ have not passed my lips in years…since my days back at UC Irvine.   

The Institute experience is a lot about returning home; going back to the basics. Like back in high school when theater was pure fun and new and exciting. Back then, everyone attended ‘work days’ when we all took part in building the set, creating the costumes and hanging the lights. In college and in the for-profit professional world, there’s a hired crew for that. Oh, how the years and the “process” can make you so detached from the nitty and grittiness of theater-making.

All “jobs” possess a certain amount of fun if you commit yourself to finding it. This past weekend, I and two other Institute students (Leslie Carson, a high school drama teacher herself, and Stacia Torborg, a young fuchsia-haired Portland-based artist) spent hours braiding long strips of felt together to create a river effect for the play. A menial task on the surface but we three managed to make lemons out of our proverbial lemonade and transformed this “task” into a simple game: a sort of maypole dance where we would go over and under each other weaving braids from our whimsically choreographed motions. We sang pop songs, children’s songs, church songs, slave songs, and danced, danced, danced.

Using my own two hands, being covered in sawdust and mosquito bites, and going to bed ‘exhaust-hilarated’ from the day gives me such a clear sense of purpose as to why we’ve come far and wide to this small-ish town on the northern coast of California. We’re bringing theater to the community. We’re showing the people here that they can do this type of work and that it’s a smashing good time. We’re leading by example. You don’t need to be a professional artist to put on a show, and the fun is in the rising to the challenge. 

I feel invigorated. I’ve self-identified as a theater artist for many years now; primarily as an actor and a writer, but more recently as a communicator and administrator (for Cornerstone). But up here in Eureka as part of the Cornerstone Institute, I’m so much more. I’m everything. I’m a craftsman, an electrician, a master felt braider, a classic printer/publisher, a dancer, a choreographer. I am an artist in every sense. I am large. I contain multitudes.

Meet the Blue Ox Millworks and Eric Hollenbeck

By: Stacia Torborg

Blue Ox Millworks, Historic Park, and School of Traditional Arts is one heck of a place.  It’s full of sawdust, dust dust, cobwebs, wood, old things, magic, and good vibrations.  Really.  There’s a puppet theatre and pedal-powered jigsaws and a forklift with a name I can’t remember at the moment and fat cats (some skinny ones too) and a big old dog named Baxter and rose bushes and two oxen named Babe and Blue.  And a room full of old printing presses.  I’ve been spending a lot of time in that room.  Somehow, in one of those unexpected twists life tends to take, I ended up in charge of typesetting the poster for our production of Jason in Eureka.  That’s right: typesetting.  Cornerstone has this great habit of rolling with it, and incorporating whatever aspects of the community present themselves into any and all aspects of production.  In this case, we needed to design a poster, and what presented itself was this room at Blue Ox full of printing presses and cases full of dusty type.  Lots and lots of cases; lots and lots of dust.  Kind of like a jungle full of artistic promise and I’m a little kid soooo excited to explore.

Blue Ox is owned and operated by Eric and Viviana Hollenbeck.  The way Eric tells it, it was all an accident.  “I figure if I keep making mistakes,” he says, “I’ll be just fine.”  He created the place and the business partially from machines he literally found in the woods or by the side of the road.  Originally it was a salvage logging company that he founded with a $300 bank loan and a huge amount of respect for the forest he worked in.  These days, the Blue Ox does a lot of custom woodworking for restoration, especially of old Victorian houses, and other purposes.  They also offer tours of the facilities, including demonstrations of the old human-powered machines.  And they run a school for high schoolers of traditional arts, including blacksmithing, ceramics, woodworking, and–yes–letterpress.  Every year the kids make their own yearbook start to finish.  

I got a little bit of schooling from Eric in how to lay out the type, and then he more or less let me loose to work on our poster.  His generosity is incredible.  When Cornerstone approached them about using Blue Ox as a venue for our play, he and Viviana were immediately keen on the idea (“sounded like another mistake,” Eric joked).  They’ve done lots more than merely letting us use (and transform) part of their space–today while I was printing posters, Eric came by to double-check the time of the performance so he could include it in a PSA on their radio station.  Did I mention they have a radio station?  Yeah.

 

Sneak Peak: The show poster for Jason In Eureka

 

Performance Space: The Cornerstone Institute stands on what will be the actual stage for the performance of Jason in Eureka!

Where the audience will be! You are seeing the house section of the performance space at the Blue Ox Millworks. Clean up days have been scheduled.

 

I’ve died and gone to theater heaven,

and the room I’m in is filled with angels.

by Victor Vazquez

Hey you. How are you?

As we speak, I am sitting on a great comfortable couch in a study hall inside a Catholic school dorm (St. Bernards) in Eureka, CA listening to my room mate Adam Sussman, Ramy Eletreby (who graduated from UCI in 2002) and Sage Howard [check out their bios] talk about their quarter life crisis, theater crisis, and travels to distant lands where tears, theater, and conversations instigated change within their own life’s. Adam has been to Ghana twice, Sage went to Ghana once, Ramy graduated from UCI, Brandon, Sage and I are from UCI, Mica has attended a lecture in New York by Julia Taylor’s boss whose job is in Kentucky where she works with multi-media performance aspects and community-based theater. Leslie Carson is a 60 year old high school teacher in LA who just invested a ton of money on Commedia masks from Australia to show her students in LA, and I informed her about the Rogue Artists Ensemble in LA who can come lecture about masking and puppets for her kids, and she too met someone who makes Commedia masks here at the Institute.

All that just happened over dinner. We are instantly connected, not only with theater, but because our humanities are shaped around the theater and around our several communities- and therefore, we are all asking the same questions. And we all have each others answers.

We have all just settled in today. Some of us traveled from New York, Minnesota, Kentucky, Texas, Boston, New Orleans, Colorado, Los Angeles, Irvine. Most have gone to bed now, some are still talking outside the hall. It is midnight now. I am sitting here realizing the magnitude of this experience. Seventeen participants and several staff members have traveled from all around the nation here today, and we are all excited to learn the Cornerstone methodology, and explore how theater is capable of engaging and working with specific communities.

But as I write this, I have to rethink this sentence. Michael John Garces (Artistic Director) talked about art today in our circle where we were introducing ourselves in the school’s gym where our kitchen and dinner commons is also located. Also, where rehearsals will soon take place. He talked about an interview he was a part of a few a weeks ago. The woman was an analyst writing a report on the Cornerstone Institute and its history over the past six years (this is the 6th institute). The woman asked Michael the following question:

“What kind of artistic skills are you teaching at the institute”?

And he said:

“Nothing. We are not teaching artistic skills. We teach other things. [But above all we practice]”

He went on to say that the Institute does not teach someone how to act, to direct, or to design. The Institute gives you practice. All art is about practice. Practicing your art teaches you, doing your art teaches you lessons. The theater is all about learning, everyday you learn, you learn from the other participants, the staff, the community, books, nature, the universe. So long as you practice, you learn. When we rehearse, speak, listen, make mistakes, play we learn. We learn in circles, in talks, in full. We learn from one another, and therefore- all this, all that, fuels our art.

I am ready. We are all ready to learn. This summer, several answers will be presented, several connections, findings, revelations will occur. Enlightenment is on the horizon. Watch out world, this Institute will birth true artists for the theater that is to come tomorrow.

Here they are:

I present to you the official Cornerstone Summer Institute class and staff of I6.

Eating breakfast at home in Long Beach, CA.

Hello everyone.

My name is Victor Vazquez and I am the documentarian for this years Cornerstone Institute Summer Residency Program in Eureka CA 2009. Welcome to our blog! I’m currently sitting at home, eating honey nut cheerios- and the bowl is now almost empty. So good. Let me tell you a little about myself- I’m a senior at UCI majoring in Drama and minoring in English with an emphasis in Poetry. I became fascinated by the Cornerstone Theater Company last year, and decided to apply to their Summer Institute this year because my plans to go to Mexico City for six months were postponed. What better way to spend the summer than to be a part this thrilling community-based and ensemble-based company! I applied (application found on their website: www.cornerstonetheater.org) was interviewed, and became apart of the process. I am so excited!

In this journey the Cornerstone Institute Summer Residency Program offers a unique, hands-on collaborative experience creating theater and exploring strategies for community engagement while living with and within a small, diverse community (Eureka and Humboldt County CA). Students learn both through classroom training and hands-on creation of community-specific productions, which combine their own artistry with that of experienced professionals and community collaborators. Classroom training and production experience will combine to provide a thorough understanding of the community collaboration process, from beginning to end. Harkening back to our “rural years,” when Cornerstone conducted residencies in small towns across America, the Cornerstone Institute Summer Residency program primarily occurs in small agricultural towns in California.

I’m also excited for you to embark on this four week journey with me, the other participants, the staff, and above all, the entire community of Eureka and Humboldt County CA. Bookmark this page! It will make you laugh, cry, and go into often pensive moments. It will give you knowledge, inspiration, and cool pictures. It will . . . be great.

Here you will find all aspects of the Institute. “All aspects” include production progress (auditions, rehearsals, production build, performance), community events, workshops, meals and extracurricular happenings.

Excited yet? You should be. Well this is the first post, come learn more about us in the Bio section and I will update the rest as we get started in Eureka this Thursday evening (July 9th). For now, I’m off to load up my car. I’m driving up to San Francisco today with Brandon Spooner and Sage Howard.

Paz.
Victor