POSTCARDS_Tokyo3

Instrucciones para Rezar

I.
1_ Haga una reverencia frente a la puerta del lugar sagrado y siga el sendero que lleva al altar caminando por un lateral. El centro del camino se reserva para los Dioses. 
2_Lávese en la fuente que encontrará de camino al altar usando el cucharón de palo. 
3_Haga una reverencia delante del altar.
4_Lance una limosna al cofre de madera.
5_Reverencia doble, y dos palmadas antes rezar.
6_Junte las palmas de las manos durante la oración.
7_Una reverencia más al terminar.
8_ Vuelva a la entrada por el sendero y haga una última reverencia frente a la puerta antes de salir.

II.
Cada mañana antes de desayunar me gusta salir a dar un paseo. Hoy me encontré con un gran pórtico de madera flanqueado por un muro de piedra. Hice las reverencias, me lavé, aplaudí, recé, deshice el camino y antes de salir hice la última frente al pórtico. Una vez afuera vi el cartel que ponía "Oficinas Principales de la Aduana Nacional".

*

How to Pray

I.
1_Bow once at the gateway and follow the trail. Walk on either side of the path saving the central trail for the deities.
2_On the way to the shrine, stop at the water pavilion and wash yourself using the wooden ladle.
3_Bow once when you arrive at the shrine.
4_Make a donation in the wooden box.
5_Bow twice and clap twice before starting your prayer. 
6_Bring your palms together and pray.
7_Bow once again.
8_ Go back to the gateway and make a final bow before leaving.

II.
Every morning before my breakfast I like to for a walk. Today, on my way back, I found the most amazing wooden gateway next to an old stone wall. I bowed and went in. I did my washing, my bowing, my clapping, and prayed. After bowing one last time at the gateway I discovered a small sign that said: "Tokyo Customs Headquarters".

POSTCARDS_Tokyo2

El plan para hoy era visitar el recinto amurallado del Palacio Imperial, corazón de la ciudad. No pudimos pasar porque es la residencia permanente del Emperador.

*   *   *

The plan today was to visit the Imperial Palace, heart of the city since 1400. They didn't let us in because it's the Emperor's permanent residency.

POSTCARDS_Tokyo1

He vuelto a dormir menos de cinco horas. Debería estar muerto de sueño considerando que el reloj de casa está marcando la hora de irse a la cama, pero aquí, en Tokio, son apenas las cuatro de la madrugada y tengo los ojos como dos cuencos de ramen.

¿Me desplomaré en el cruce de Shibuya y me pisarán los peatones al pasar? ¿Caeré redondo en el centro del patio del santuario de Meiji al leer el primer verso de los poemas imperiales? ¿Me arrastrará la corriente del Sumida?

Me enterrarán con una placa que diga: “Intentó mantenerse despierto en la medida en la que pudo”.

 *   *   *

I’ve had less than 5 hours of sleep again. I should be sleepy considering that it’s almost midnight back home, but it’s only 4am here in Tokyo and my eyes are two round bowls of ramen.

.Will I be run over by the pedestrians crossing at Shibuya? Will I fall flat on my face in the Meiji sanctuary when I read the first verse of the Emperor`s poetry collection? Will I be washed away by the Sumida river.

They will bury me with a plaque that reads: "Gave his heart and mind to the utmost effort of staying awake.”

Emerging Star32_Rehearsal// Ensayo

Estrella Emergente32_Ensayo

El conductor me recogió en casa esta mañana a las 7’30 y me llevó a la estación de Euston para tomar el tren que me llevaría junto a otros tres actores a cierta ciudad en el Norte de Inglaterra. Hacía frío y era demasiado temprano para conversar, así que viajamos en silencio.

Un miniván nos llevó hasta los estudios donde Charlie, el 2° Asistente de Dirección, nos indicó el camerino-rodante correspondiente a cada uno, rotulado respectivamente con el nombre de cada personaje. Allí repasé el guion por última vez antes del primer ensayo con el director.

Al llegar a la habitación, sentados en círculo -en sillas, obviamente- estaba el reparto completo de actores cuyos perfiles de IMDb he visitado compulsivamente desde que hice el casting hace más de seis meses. Al fondo una pared tapizada con nuestros retratos impresos en DIN-A4. Me sentí raro, medio contento, medio nervioso porque, al fin y al cabo, el voltaje era jevi y además, era la primera vez que iba a encontrarme con el director, que resultó ser un tipo bastante más guapo que en las fotos: alto, barbudo, con los brazos fuertes y peludos que nos recibió cariñosamente serio.

Mientras leíamos el guion no pude evitar pensar: qué fuerte, es como si estuviera en una película, pero en seguida me obligué a centrarme para no equivocarme diciendo mi texto, que en esta escena, por suerte (o no), se limita a: “oh, wow!”. Acto seguido, Charlie nos llevó a los cuatro nuevos a conocer el set, construido con oro, vidrio y terciopelo granate, y que recuerda a un cruce entre una boutique de Issey Miyake y la tienda de Fabergé de la Quinta Avenida.

A la hora del almuerzo lo normal habría sido comer junto con los otros tres nuevos en el bus-comedor y comentar la jugada, pero en cambio, cada uno se fue a su tráiler. Me relajé y pensé en la suerte de tener un tráiler para mí solo mientras me comía una hamburguesa de pescado con papas fritas y salsa tártara en un recipiente desechable.

Poco después el miniván nos llevó a la estación y sobre las 4’30 ya estaba de vuelta en Londres. De camino a casa pasé por el Lidl a comprar lechuga y papel higiénico, pero antes de entrar me dieron ganas de ponerme las gafas de sol que llevaba en la mochila.

* * *

Emerging Star32_Rehearsal

A car picked me up this morning at 7'30 and took me to Euston Station. I had a seat reserved to travel up North next to three other actors from the same production. It was very cold and it seemed too early to chat, so we travelled in silence.

There was a minivan waiting for us which took us to the studios where Charlie, the 2nd Assistant Director, guided us to the four trailers correspondingly labelled with the name of our characters. It felt good to have a chance to go over the script once more before meeting the director for our first rehearsal.

When we came in, all the other actors whose IMDb profiles I'd been snooping for the last six months were already in the room sitting in a circle. In chairs, of course. There was a wall covered with our headshots and I felt funny: both excited and nervous. It was the first time I was meeting the director and he seemed better groomed than most of the pictures I had seen him on. He is tallish, bearded, handsome with strong and hairy arms and gave us a warm welcome.

When we started reading the script I couldn’t stop thinking “…gosh, it really sounds like a film”, but I forced myself to focus in not messing up the only line I had: “oh, woah!

Charlie then took the four of us to see the set which felt like a high-end store in Fifth Avenue built with gold, glass and velvet. As if Fabergé had met Issey Miyake.

We then grabbed lunch and the reasonable thing would have been to eat together in the dining-bus and rant on about what we had just experienced, but the other three went to their trailers. From my experience as an extra I know what a privilege it is to have a trailer for yourself, so I went to mine and enjoyed my fish roll with tartar sauce and some very nice chips.

Shortly after, the van took us to back to the station and by 4’30 we were back in London. On my way home, I stopped at Lidl to but some lettuce and toilet paper, but before walking in I felt a strong desire to reach into my bag for my sunglasses.

Emerging Star31_Chorus Line//Coristas

Emerging Star31_Chorus Line

The ethnically-diverse crowd was broken down into three groups of twenty and each group split into right or left line. I was in the first group, ninth in the right line, which accordingly to Olga Dudinskaya’s instructions, meant I would start walking with my right foot in a diagonal for 16 counts and then turn to the front and walk toward the audience for the next eight counts. Then the tricky bit: four more counts walking forward, two counts to turn and two more to end up with my right knee on the floor, mirroring the gentleman in ninth position of the opposite line.

A pianist accompanies the three groups as they perform. Olga asks everyone to make a line from tallest to shortest facing the audience. She dismisses the last ten at each end because they don’t meet the height requirements. She walks meditatively in front of the line and points at half of the group, invites them to take a step forward, thanks them and sends them off.

From the top. I am on the left group this time around, third in the line. I must remember to start with my left foot and finish on my left knee. Left foot, left knee.  Everything runs smoothly but I can’t manage to make eye contact with the chap on the opposite line. Olga thanks the pianist with a gesture and he leaves the room. She asks for a line again and picks ten to take a step forward. She thanks them and sends them away.

They are looking for four actors and there’s eight of us left. It’s like A Chorus Line, but there’s no singing. From the top again. This time I am leading the left line. Left foot, left knee. Olga counts us in and the beat is so slow I can hardly keep my balance while I walk. The performance is flawless and we all land on the right knee.

Line again. Olga walks in front of us for the last time. She picks the last four and invites us to take a step forward. She thanks us for being there and dismisses the back line. The ground starts shaking as everything around us collapses.

*   *   *

Estrella Emergente31_Coristas

Éramos unos sesenta, de diferentes edades, razas y tamaños repartidos en tres grupos de veinte. Cada grupo dividido en una fila a la derecha y otra a la izquierda. Caí aleatoriamente en el primer grupo, noveno en la fila de la derecha y por lo tanto -según las instrucciones de Olga Dudinskaya- debía empezar la marcha con el pie derecho, avanzando en diagonal durante los dos primeros ochos. Un tercer ocho avanzando de frente al público con los brazos cruzados sobre el pecho. Cuatro pasos más en cuatro tiempos, dos tiempos para girarse y las dos últimas cuentas para terminar la acción arrodillado sobre la rodilla derecha haciendo de espejo del compañero de la fila contraria.

El pianista tocó para los tres grupos. Al terminar Olga nos pidió ponernos sobre el escenario hombro con hombro por orden de estatura. A los diez de cada extremo los mandó a casa por altos y por bajitos. Entre los cuarenta restantes señaló uno por uno a más de la mitad y los invitó a dar un paso al frente. A estos también los mandó a casa.

Todo de nuevo.  Esta vez soy el tercero, pero de la fila de la izquierda.  Esto significa que ahora toca pie izquierdo, rodilla izquierda. Pie izquierdo, rodilla izquierda. Aunque no hay manera de establecer contacto visual con mi compañero-espejo, todo sale bien. Olga despide al pianista con un gesto y nos pide hacer la fila de nuevo, hombro con hombro. Olga señala a diez y les indica que avancen con un paso al frente. Estos diez, a casa también.

Necesitan cuatro actores y quedamos ocho. Es como A Chorus Line, pero sin cantar. Todo una vez más. Esta vez soy el primero de la fila de la izquierda. Pie izquierdo, rodilla izquierda. Olga cuanta en voz alta y el tempo es tan lento que me cuesta mantener el equilibrio. La filas avanzan con sincronizada precisión, y el final es un espejo perfecto donde todos descansamos sobre la rodilla que toca.

Hombro con hombro, todos en fila de nuevo. Olga se pasea inquieta por delante de nosotros y finalmente señala con el dedo a cuatro. Nos pide dar un paso al frente. Felicita al grupo por llegar hasta aquí y manda a casa a los cuatro de atrás. La tierra tiembla y todo se desploma a nuestro alrededor.

Saltimbanqui_2

Esta mañana me habría gustado ir a correr por la playa, pero como en la maleta me cupo poco más que las chanclas, he regresado a la central después de darme un chapuzón en el mar. Tenía pendiente ponerle nombre a mi títere y confeccionarle unas manos que son en realidad unas garras porque es un perro chino. Y a pesar de que lo segundo no lo he conseguido porque tengo heridas en los dedos de tanto coser, lo he bautizado Chang-Pu. Estas son mis tres razones:

-Poética: significa “sencillo para simpre”
-Eufonía: señoras y señores, un aplauso para…
-Carácter lúdico: es divertido decirlo y es fácil de recordar

Si miras con atención podrás ver pájarillos de colores en el pequeño bosque de árboles y palmeras entre los que están dispersos los restos de la central termoeléctrica.. Los almacenes de carbón se han reconvertido en las celdas donde dormimos, el comedor está ubicado dentro de la torre de refrigeración y la sala de condensadores la utilizamos como sala de ensayo. Todo ello con un cierto aire distópico.

El maestro es un pirata grandote y peludo con barbas rojas. Es cercano y distante a la vez, directo pero tangencial y se dirige a nosotros exclusivamente a través de sus títeres. Hoy mientras todos le observamos boquiabiertos hablar sobre la importancia de la transformación de la energía en diferentes idiomas, me di cuenta de que al fondo de la sala nuestros muñecos susurraban entre ellos discretamente.

Saltimbanqui_1

Tuve tan sólo media hora para preparar la maleta y no sabía si era más importante meter la marioneta y su indumentaria o mi ropa para una semana. Al final me decidí por la marioneta, que para algo la había construido, más mi cepillo de dientes, el traje de baño y un par de camisetas que nos vistieran a ambos.

Me he visto obligado a hacer una demostración ante el control de seguridad para justificar las varillas metálicas que articulan el cuerpo del muñeco, pero ha sido todo muy improvisado porque el títere no tiene todavía ni voz, ni nombre -para algo voy al curso, ¿no?. Tras disculparme con los agentes, he pasado rápidamente por el duty-free para ponerme bien de mi perfume favorito y comprar una botella de agua antes de subir al avión. 

Tres horas y media más tarde y a dos mil kilómetros de distancia de casa, arrastro mi maleta por el frente marítmo. Las ranas y las cigarras cantan ocultas entre la vegetación. Son las once la noche y la luna ilumina las ruinas de lo que parece ser una antigua central nuclear semidestruida. Mierda! Pensé que “Power Plant Puppetry Workshop” era un marco conceptual -así como Guerrilla Theatre, o Live Art- pero al ver las chimeneas de hormigón delante de mí he pensado que ahora tiene todo más sentido.

Empujo la reja y ladran unos perros. La maleta no rueda. Así es la vida del saltimbanqui.

At the Theatre_Not in 2018

I just saw a 30min monologue at The Old Vic called Sea Wall and I feel as if I had paid a full ticket to see a production at the Opera House where the soprano showed up in her yoga clothes to sing for us three arias a capella and left. The audience gave a standing ovation.

I won’t go into the writing. I won’t go into the delivery. I won’t even discuss the duration. I would just like to point out the importance of choosing the right context when it comes to performing a transgressive action. Live Art has taught us a lot about this issue.

I understand the intention of stripping down the performance -no lights, no costumes, no chorus, no scenography, no props, except a 500ml disposable plastic bottle of Aquafina- to bring the story closer to the audience. Artaud did it a century ago. Grotowski too. I am fascinated by Dario Fo who raised the figure of the medieval jongleur onto a stage. But is this action still a rebellion when performed in the premises of a safe and enclosed building with red velvet seats positioned in a semi-circle, for an audience who like me has paid to see a production? Really, in 2018?

Emerging Star30_Drunken Karaoke

Brian the puppeteer said one shouldn´t work as an extra after having had a part in a film, but work has been pretty thin lately.

I must admit I have become more selective with what I do but it’s also worth acknowledging that even landing jobs as an extra has become increasingly difficult. However, every now and then I get offered background roles which might not be very well paid, but are nice opportunities to be on set and do my bit.

Like playing a City Bar Singer. They said I might be required to sing live, so I had to send my singing Demo and my show reel. The pay rate wasn´t even the Union minimum but I felt I really wanted to do it, so I put myself forward.

Two days later I get an email telling me I have been shortlisted, but production now requires this character to be drunk whilst singing to karaoke -same pay rate, of course. For this reason they wanted me to self-tape “drunkenly” singing to karaoke. I sent an amazing clip singing to Dean Martin’s version of Volare whilst holding a champagne glass filled with Coca-cola.

Betty just called from the extras agency to tell me there is a change of plan: “Production haven't got a karaoke track anymore so the drunken singer is more going to be drunkenly egging the audience on to listen to him singing again. Could you do a new self-tape to that effect for me?”

Dear Betty, I said, tell production they should hire an actor.

Emerging Star29_As Fast

Dear Casting Director, asking me to tap dance as fast as I can will never be as sexy as letting me do the time-keeping. It's part of my art.

At the Theatre_Why that Cast?

Last night I walked home from the Young Vic after watching seven hours of Matthew Lopez's The Inheritance. I would have normally crossed the river, gone past China Town through Soho and taken the tube back to my Bangoli neighbourhood in Mile End, but last night I needed some fresh air and some space to think about what I had just seen, so I walked.

The writing had been interesting to experience: a sort of narrative -meets drama -meets poetry that suited the plot well and allowed a story-telling mode to emerge throughout the play and give texture to this very wordy piece. The themes were powerful, and engaging, and relevant, especially for a poof like me, living the gay life of a mega-polis like London and embracing a flourishing social life of beer, parties and discreet sex in the weekends whilst dealing with an unresposive flatmate, STDs, my precarious finance and attempting a career as a full-time actor during the week.

Being a batti boy in the 80’s in New York mustn’t have felt very different from being a naughty fairy in London today. The LGTBQI+ community –not always with such a politically correct label- has consistently been inclusive, embracing, proud and fabulous. The good sheep and the bad, the immigrants, the gender benders, the overdressed, the overweighed, the uncontrolled, the slutty and the effeminate have had a voice for themselves and their cause.

I don`t think the queer scene in New York and London nowadays has changed much in this respect. Yes, we now have PrEP, Brexit, Uber and the dating apps, but overall mega-polis remain melting pots for provincial faggots and romantic nellies to escape to, and come out, and feel safe, and speak out,  and meet other fellow pansies with similar concerns and come together to finally feel legitimized, through their words, their actions, and the work they do.This is my experience, at least, and the case of most of the gays who I’ve met here.

So as I crossed Limehouse, and before reaching home I thought one last time about the play and asked myself why had they chosen a cast of predominantly white, young-aspirational, middle-upper class jocks? As a London based queer transatlantic middle aged migrant I felt excluded from this beautiful trans-generational and multicultural banquet both as an actor and as a homosexual man.

Emerging Star28_Real Tears//Lágrimas de Verdad

Emerging Star28_Real Tears

-‘Real Mayonnaise’ is not just an ordinary experience, it will trigger ‘real’ emotions like screaming when free-fall from 14,000 feet, or shaking before delivering a speech. Imagine you have just become a father and you are holding the baby in your arms for the first time; you would cry.

>This can’t be true: I've lots of different skills: I can sing in tune, dance to rhythms, be an idiot, but crying on cue is definitely not in my CV<

-This is your son, he says, as he hands me an oversized blonde doll wrapped in a dirty towel that he probably borrowed from the toilet next door. -Remember the what we’re after is that moment of true emotion and real tears.

>I don’t want to be fussy, but why is the baby so big? They should have given me a cushion with no hair and no eyes, like one of those Steiner dolls. Stop. Focus. I fix my thoughts in my grandma who I couldn’t say goodbye to but it doesn’t seem to work, so I remember that laughter/cry exercise where opposites end up meeting. Hu-hu-hu. This is not working, for how long am I going to be here? I sing a lullaby as I rock the baby, but it has no weight, the baby is hollow. I picture the doll filled with mayo and I start to smell a subtle stench coming from the dirty towel. I think of Tilda Swinton in that short clip in the NYTimes. I think of porn. Stooop. Focus. Real tears, real tears, real.…..<

I watched a film that evening. Wednesdays at the Genesis are half prize. I was moved by sincere words hand-written in paper, by the solitude of someone who is keeping a secret, by the strength of someone who speaks out loud for the first time. I know I was touched because I cried.

* * *

Estrella Emergente28_Lágrimas de Verdad

-Una 'mayonesa de verdad' debería despertar emociones reales, como cuando alguien salta en paracaidas desde 5000m y no puede evitar gritar. O como cuando a uno le sudan las manos cuando habla en público. O como cuando sostienes por primera vez en brazos a tu hijo recién nacido y lloras de alegría.

>Sabía que tarde o temprano llegaría este momento. Yo puedo llegar a hacer una pirueta triple, o la segunda voz de una melodía, así, al tun-tún, pero llorar a la carta como si fuera la primera vez,no, eso no forma parte de mi repertorio.<

-Este es tu hijo, me dice, mientras me entrega una muñeca medio calva envuelta en una toalla mugrienta. -Recuerda que estamos buscando una respuesta tuya personal a esta situación, aunque es fundamental que en algún momento asomen unas lágrimas de verdad.

>No quiero parecer exigente, pero esta muñeca tiene por lo menos un año y medio y la verdad es que habría preferido que no tuviera ojos, ni pelo, como los muñecos de los niños que van al colegio de Steiner. Basta. Concentración. Pienso en mi abuela Socorro y siento muchas cosas pero cero lágrimas y entonces me acuerdo del ejercicio que lleva de la risa al llanto y del llanto a la risa: Ju-ju-ju-ju, esto no está funcionando. Por favor, cuanto va a durar esto? Le canto una nana al niño y empiezo a mecerlo, pero el muñeco está hueco y no pesa. Me lo imagino relleno de mayonesa y empiezo a percibir un olor raro que viene de la toalla. Pienso en Tilda Swinton en el video de The New York Times. Pienso en los rodajes de las películas porno. Basta, ya! Lágrimas, necesito empezar a llorar ya....<

Esa noche fui al cine. Los Miércoles en el Genesis las entradas son a mitad de precio. Me emocionaron las cartas escritas a mano, la ropa en contacto con la piel, con la luz, la fortaleza del que guarda un secreto, y la valentía del que se atreve a hablar por primera vez. Pero ningún pero ningún personaje lloró -sólo yo, en silencio, para que nadie se diera cuenta.

Emerging Star27_Financial Resources// Capital

Emerging Star27_Financial Resources

It’s the first Friday of the month and I am walking down Oxford Street. I make a right turn on Charing Cross Road to go to Chinatown and buy myself a cup of taro bubble-tea with tapioca pearls. £3.65 is an extravagance considering a tenner* in my pocket is the tail end of my financial resources.

According to Equity’s standard contract for an actor on a 5-day filming week, I will soon receive a £2257 (-15% agent’s commission) check for my last job. I’m planning on buying a new smart phone (£289), a black Fedora hat (£55), signing up for Spy Monkey’s April workshop (£340), and opening a savings account with the remaining £1235 which I could survive with for the next two months, but which I’ll instead pretend do not exist.

At least that’s what I thought when I agreed to take a job scanning badges in an international Gaming Exhibition between Monday and Wednesday next week (£285), and how I accepted to be an extra on Friday and Saturday in a film about terrorists and spies (aprox £320). Things couldn’t seem to have been going better until I was offered to play an infiltrate in a corporate event on Wednesday morning (£300) of the same week for which I had to negotiate(-£95) getting my scanning duties covered for that day.

£810 was the estimated profit for the week until the extras cancelled, the corporate event was moved to Tuesday, the badge-scanners fired me after asking for another shift change and to finish it off nicely, my agent called an hour ago to tell me that I have a casting on Tuesday morning which gave me no other choice than to cancel the corporate job giving a very short notice.

They are looking for a ‘Real man with a beard’ for a Mayonnaise commercial. The beard I definitely have, but the only thing that feels 'Real, man' is the cup of taro-bubble tea I’m holding and the £6.35 change in my pocket.

*ten pound note

*   *   *

Estrella Emergente27_Capital

Es el primer Viernes del mes y voy caminando por Oxford Street. En el cruce con Charing Cross Road bajo hasta Chinatown para celebrar el final de la semana con un vaso de té-con-bolas. Me gusta frío con doble de hielo, mitad de azúcar, sabor a Taro y bolitas de tapioca. Soy consciente de que gastar 4.15€ en esto es un despilfarro considerando que en estos momentos mi único capital es el billete de 10€ que llevo en el bolsillo, aunque también es verdad que estoy a punto de recibir la paga por mi primer trabajo como actor en una película.

De acuerdo con el sindicato, el contrato-estándar de-un-actor-estándar por-una-semana-de-rodaje-estándar asciende a 2558€ (-15% de comisión que se lleva mi representante). Con esos 2175€ quiero comprarme un teléfono celular nuevo (328€) y un buen sombrero negro de fieltro (62€), apuntarme a un seminario de musicalidad para payasos en Abril (385€) y el resto lo voy a esconder en la parte central del Atlas de Mitología Griega que descansa olvidado en la estantería de casa.

Al menos eso fue lo que pensé cuando me propusieron trabajar la próxima semana escaneando escarapelas de Lunes a Miércoles en la entrada de una feria de videojuegos (324€), o cuando me ofrecieron trabajo como extra para el Viernes y el Sábado de esa misma semana en una película de terroristas (aprox 362€). Por si fuera poco, me contactaron de una productora para hacer una pequeña intervención como periodista infiltrado en la presentación de un producto el Mièrcoles por la mañana (340€) con lo que no me quedó más remedio que negociar un remplazo con los de los videojuegos (-108€).

El Atlas de Mitología podría haber sido 918€ más grueso, pero en menos de 24horas los extras cancelaron, la productora cambió la presentación al Martes y cuando intenté re-negociar las fechas con los de las escarapelas directamente me despidieron. Para rematar, mi agente llamó hace menos de una hora para decirme que tengo un casting el Martes y no me quedó otra que cancelarle a los de la productora.

Buscan un ‘Hombre real con barba‘ para un anuncio de mayonesa. Lo de la barba bien, pero ahora mismo lo único ‘real‘ es que ya me he terminado el té-con-bolas y sólo me quedan 5.85€ para sobrevivir este fin de semana.

Emerging Star26_On Set

Look at me: sitting here in my CAST chair sipping my.... my name on the walkie-talkie, I drop everything and Charlie pops to fix my shirt as James takes me to set where Monique sorts my hair and powders my face. The 1stAD indicates I should look at the hero when I pause, the DOP suggests not to look at the hero, the sound engineer advises me not to pause, and the director finally tells me to do what I did in the audition tape.

Will I be able to be that silly with all these people watching? My hands are cold. I try to think of a song that matches the moment as I hear ACTION and go with the flow. There are so many things to be aware of that for once I am grateful not to have too many lines to deliver.

Everyone works non-stop and eats from biodegradable food-boxes during the scene changes. In the distance I recognize one of the extras and wave at him. I’m pretty sure we have worked together before. He comes closer and asks if I’ve been up to much. I say not really. He asks if I got the job through the same background agency as he has. I say, well, you know, this time, I…ROLLING screams a voice.

It’s a WRAP and I’m exhausted. I change back into my clothes and jump in the back of the car that will take me home. Once we hit the motorway the radio starts playing Lakmé’s Flower Duet and I realise it’s pouring rain outside.

Emerging Star25_Fast Car

Important things seem to arrive fast and unexpectedly, like my first role in a film. No one would have thought that after fourteen unsuccessful castings last year I would land my first job on the big screen with a self-tape shot in my parents’ backyard during my holidays.

After a few calls from my agent and sooner than expected I'm heading to the studios. It is dark outside and I am sitting at the back of a car looking at the city lights through the smoked windows. It has been raining and I can´t help to shiver slightly when Tracy Chapman sings “…I had a feeling that I belonged, I had a feeling I could be someone" on the radio.

Jenna is waiting for me with an umbrella. She welcomes me and takes me to my trailer where she explains the agenda for the day: costume fitting (trousers too tight), hair and make-up (they complement my ‘good’ hair), lunch (salmon, salad and white rice), visit to the director and producers (in costume) who are on set shooting some scene.

By the time all the business has been completed, the day in gone and it's dark again. I am taken back to the trailer, undress, and jump in the same car that brought me in the morning and which will take me back home. At my arrival, my neighbour Shaan watches me come out of the car with smoked windows. He recognizes me and holds the door for me. Inside the elevator he asks if I had a good day and with a single impulse I display the thirty-two teeth inside my mouth. He smiles back.

Emerging Star24_Nativity

It ended up being only three of us and the narrator, and even though during rehearsals I had expressed my wish of not taking any of the main roles, I ended up playing the inn keeper, the Roman soldier and Gabriel the angel.

I am normally happy to be part of any sort of miracle, but this one, again? And then rumours started arriving saying that the audience was mostly Muslim, that most of them didn´t speak English and that the age bracket spanned between five and seventy.

As I was putting on the silky wings for the last scene, I thought of all the dripping and vibrating, symbolic, interactive and intersectional non-fictional and performative pieces of post-conceptual stuff that I’ve witnessed over the last months in London’s theatres and art openings, and realised -petrified- how more adventurous it is sometimes to perform for the honesty of the ordinary than for the negligence of the cultivated.

Emerging Star23_Budget

It’s Wednesday. It’s taken me Monday and Tuesday to convince myself again that this will be a good week, that things will happen, that I am important, and that it’s worth developing my own self because at the end it’s the only thing I can be the best at. It’s 2pm. An email from my agent. I only get an email from her if I have a casting. She says that there are not many jobs for my casting bracket at the moment. The last time she wrote to me was in September.

The header says: Meeting-Antonio Quintana (ARGENTINIAN DEALER). I read through the scene they’ve sent and I can spot the repetition of words like Delivery, Secret, Diamonds, Special, Poison, Parcel, and Antidote. It’s a shame Es-pe-shal appears only twice because it is a good one to sound like a proper Latino.

I have less that 24 hours. I drop everything I was working on and spend the rest of my day learning the lines and preparing to become Antonio Quintana: the smooth, chic, serious faced and good haired, charismatic Latin American/Spanish dealer wearing an expensive suit.

Right away I sense that the job won’t be mine because the Antonio Quintana that I am good at becoming wears diamond rings and hats, is funny, cheeky and has a chipped tooth, drinks mate compulsively and listens to a bandoneón player in the veranda of his house every sunset surrounded by lovers and gardens inhabited by exotic creatures living in freedom. My version of Antonio cries alone behind the doors of his room at night.

And most likely, in this production there is no budget for such things, they can only afford an expensive suit.

Emerging Star22_The Double

They got in touch last week to offer me the job of the villain’s double during the month of reshoots of a Hollywood production. They said the job was between me and someone else. My first thought was: wow, but I don’t really look like that actor. After watching the trailer my second thought was: holy shit, really?

I travelled this morning to the studios outside London to meet the team and I was introduced to the other potential double who was there too. He didn’t look like me nor like the Hollywood villain. I thought: Really, is it really necessary to have us both at the same time?

The costume designer handed us each a costume from a rack and took us to separate rooms to get changed. Oooff, for a second I thought we were sharing the changing room- generally, nothing wrong with that, but not in a situation like this. Everything fit perfectly and the boots felt really nice. I walked out of the room to discover the other look-a-like in the same clothes as me and then quickly checked the rack to confirm that it only held replicas of the same costume that we were both wearing.

Out loud a disdainful voice announced it was clear who was right for the job and why. Seconds later the room filled up with people gathering around my antagonist -like when they proclaim the winner of Miss Universe. Different departments started asking questions, taking measurements and touching his hair, as they all moved away like a shoal of herrings. I was left on my own, dressed up like the Hollywood villain, standing in the middle of the room for at least ten minutes.

We got changed and waited for each other. His name is Henry and he is a dancer from Suffolk. He had an injury on his left shoulder last year from which he has recently recovered. He said he'll be able to pay his sister back with the money from this job. All this he told me on the train back to Euston Station.

Emerging Star21_The Clown

Last week I was very busy taking part in a clowning workshop. Ten to six every day, Monday to Friday: like a full time job. And let me tell you that full time clowning can feel like a burden if you take it too seriously, but we were lucky enough to have a teacher who was an idiot and had such a good time.

Everyday we played -at least twice- a game he considered was the foundation of clowning. The game had two rules: when someone says your name you touch someone else and when someone touches you, you say someone else’s name. I was consistently one of the first to leave the game and it bothered me to think that I wouldn’t be a successful clown because I wasn’t good at this stupid game.So I spoke to the French clown how could she always be in the final, and she said this was the third time she did this workshop.

My favourite moment was when we all managed to skipped the rope, one after the other with no gaps. The saddest thing was when everyone said nice things to each other in the pub when we were saying goodbye.

If you feel like an idiot sometimes, don’t worry, it’s okay to be stupid. But be honest. The danger comes when idiots are corrupt and misleading, and do it as a full time job.

Emerging Star20_Wise Man and Fool

The only way to see him play Sergestus was to take the 12:10 train from Marylebone. It was not convenient but it was the only ticket I could afford.

As I made myself sandwiches for the journey I thought that if I had the money to pick the train that I wanted I probably wouldn't have had the freedom to leave London on a Wednesday afternoon, but couldn't really figure out whether I should be grateful or disgusted about this.

I felt relieved at my arrival in Stratford-upon-Avon when I saw this written on a wall:

"The fool doth think he is wise.
But the wise man knows himself to be a fool"
William Shakespeare