This is the fourth post in a series of guest blogs about our upcoming production, The Ravagers, which will be presented atTarnish and Gold on March 4th and 5th. See the first post by playwright Blake E. Bolan here , the second post by director Sarah Teich here, and the third post by actor Rachel Nelson here.
Today's post is from Heidi Jedlicka, an actor and member of Seoul Players.
Beep Beep! Bump. Honk! KoreantalkingImosltydon’tunderstand. Bump. Beep. Stairs. 45 minutes of Novel or 2 games of Scrabble. Stairs. Beep. Walk up hill. There. Rehearse. Reverse. Wake up, Work. Repeat.
Living outside of your home turf is generally harder than living at home. Everything takes just a little more effort. Buying toothpaste. Ordering pizza. Renting Rehearsal Space. General Communication. Not only are you straddling two different cultures but the language barrier can kick your ass when you least expect it. For example, I now know to always let an Adjuma (Older Korean Woman) have the right of way--they may look frail but they will knock you out of their way with the grace of a linebacker. Or how about that one time I found out that one misspoken vowel sound can mean the difference between a $2 cab ride and a $40 adventure. True Story.
So making English theatre in a non-English country can be sticky-tricky. We foreign workers have weird hours making rehearsals tricky to schedule, trying to secure English rights to plays in a non-English speaking country is a constant confusion to the folks at Sam French et al, and finding spaces and sponsors when you don’t speak the native language is a CONSTANT challenge and by challenge I mean ohemgee *pullsouthair*.
So why the heck do I ( and the rest of the talented artists living in Seoul) spend the wee bit of spare time I (we) have zig zagging across Seoul to rehearsals, rallying the troops for meetings and sending out more email per day than can possibly be normal?
Because when it works (and thankfully it so often does) it is MAGICAL. To put everything into a piece of work that literally has never been done in this place (or within thousands of miles of this place). More than anything, it’s saying the arts matter. This story matters. And it matters so much I’m going to do every thing I can to do it, and do it well. Damn.
So this presentation The Ravagers. Started with One, then two, then 40. Then, it zipped around the world bouncing between email, skype, studio spaces in Sadang and theatre spaces in Minneapolis. Rockin’ my world the whole. damn. time.
You want it to rock yours?