Last night….

The Australian way of escaping to the UK

The Australian way of escaping to the UK

Last night, at a rather informal gathering, I asked a group of actors (average age around 40, from all over the world) about Samuel Beckett. No reaction (yet, some discomfort). Then I asked about Artaud. Nothing. Dead pale shade of whiter even paling !!! Paid my $ 6 for the Evian I had and walked away. On the Corner of Canal St and Greene I looked up at Richard Foreman’s loft and smiled at the fire escape. Came home sad on a cold almost winter day.

Most of us have absolutely NO idea of anything. I mean, people (we, humans…) are somehow brought up to see ourselves as ‘warriors’, fighters, and, from very early on we spend our lives fighting! Fighting diseases, fighting bullying, fighting ‘finding’ our identities, fighting to maintain it, fighting our declared enemies, fighting our declared friends, fighting our spouses, fighting our parents or children and, or, fighting depression and fighting the ultimate monster: DEATH!!!!

Ontem, aqui em NY, eu perguntei pra um grupo de atores (media….40 anos e de todos os países) sobre Samuel Beckett. Olhar pasmo! Ninguem sabia . Perguntei sobre Artaud. Nada. Paguei minha parte da conta e fui embora. Na esquina da Canal St com Greene – parei. Parei na frente do loft do Richard Foreman, olhei pra cima. Dei um sorriso pras escadas de incendio e vim aqui pra casa, triste!’

Esta é a herança dos nossos tempos, de nossos territórios: deturpação, esvaziamento da ética, implosão da moral em discurso pervertido, em bestialogias diárias, em sórdidos sorrisos chamados mercados. Reduzem-nos a isso, mercadoria para troca ou para o descarte, o refugo, o lixo.

Gerald Thomas

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