DAY 11 - dealing with culture, moving vertically

1.5 hours later Mohammed stood in our rehearsing room, sweating and taking some breath.

"i'm sorry, I was at the American embassy, they took my phone, they don't care if I have an appointment or not... they just say relax, it's okay, take it easy it's okay..."

I could only look at his face when he spoke, it's making all kinds of flexible mini-yoga movements and because of that my irritation about waiting again, was gone directly.

After an hour of struggeling with words on paper, which we had to translate in Arabic, we stood where I made this picture above: On the roof of the house from Ghaddar, the man who trusts us to make a performance there (!). Beautyfull. You can see all kinds of religions asking for attention on an altitude where most houses don't dare to build. If you have a wall around your city, you can eventually move only vertically, and that's exactly what families (that expand), religions, and even we do.

Taking space is our problem, our motivation and now our intention.

The public lays down to look at the stars. We lay down to look at them.

Suddenly I have a better idea then all my artistic ideas last month (considering this project):

This friday it's possible that Mohammed can not make it on time, to perform together. He lives in Ramallah so he needs to go trough a checkpoint, and you never know how long that takes.

So I had to think about making a solo for that situation.

Suddenly I began to think freely again and I thouth of something more visual and fysical, the things i do best. I'm too used to making solo's, so when I work with Mohammed I like to direct him, and that's not the meaning of this project for me. It's collaborating. So tomorrow I let control go again, like these strangers I contantly ran into:

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 10 - taking the time, claiming the space.

To many people need to much space, creepy babies are staring in your face. Just wrap a generation, a whole bloody nation,
Give us some spacetime to put them in graves.


This day was immensely important. Let me tell you why.
I met Mohammed in the hotelbar. He just had 3 days with his family and friends cause a familymember died. He looked tyred. "I didn't sleep or eat these days" he said.
We spoke about it. He doesn't like the way how funelrals happen here.
"There are so many people, and they all say "I'm sorry", "don't cry", and they don't let you cry, they don't give you the space to experience loss."

When we arranged our agenda's he directly said that he wanted to speak about freedom in the performance. He doesn't feel free because he has to pay the bill, has to carry an identitycard, has to react to the phone etc. etc. He doesn't have space to choose things for himself. Let me come back on that.

I am busy with a picture collection of hearts drawn on the streetwalls.
Because it's something that you normally don't see, but if I collect them it becomes a bigger event.
The same happens in the media (about Israel). They concentrate on war, fighting, death, blood, loss. Offcourse that's just a small part of reality. I'd like to concentrate now on another side of life here.

"So, in stead of concentrating on the habbits of stress, I would like to concentrate on our needs" - I said to Mohammed. Maybe we should claim the space, in stead of being slaves of stuff, of others, who want things from you. Let's concentrate on the freedom to choose, to claim space for ourselves.
I think we should give ourselves this space, and not wait for people (or God/Allah) to give it."

He seemed very exited and I showed him the text I wrote last night. I slept 4 hours so I hoped he was exited on this too.

The concept is this:
We are looking through a big hole in the roof, at the public. We are stuck on the roof, between heaven and earth. We are there for 200 years already, longing for eigther earthly life with all it's sensations (longing for the past, down there with the people) - or heaven, with all it's promises (craving for the future, up there in the sky, where the public is also looking at).
We are stuck and bored. Waiting for something to tell us what to do, who puts us on our place.
Our boredom sometimes comes with noises from the mouth, and this will transform into making music together. Suddenly we see eachother! We are the same here, same rittme, enjoying this moment. Suddenly we don't long for other places and other times. We claim the roof. We claim this space!
Lets live here!

I wanted to speak about death with Mohammed this morning because death is such a big event, that it forces you to connect to the things that really matter, the things you really need from the heart. And this is exactly what we did today. Taking space and time in order to express ourselves to eachother.

I realise this all sounds a bit dreamy to you, and it is, because stories are dreamy. They are not real.
They are not in the present. Stories are in the head, in the past or in the future.
Tomorrow we rehearse on the roof... very real. Yes.

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 9 - Taking a spit in the neck

Today a little boy spit me in my neck. He must have thought I was a settler.  His friend excused him for me and kicked him.

Today I paid 7 sjekel for a coke. "it's five, it's five, it's five, it's five, no it's five!" it's the first time I succeed in getting my money back.

Today I bought honey cause back home I only drink thee with honey, never with sugar. When I put it in my glass which I also bought today cause I didn't like the papercups in our hostel I thought; maybe I am no different then any other person who tries to defend their reality (thought about religion for example).

Today I finally found a shop who can print my hearts in colour. Tomorrow I pick them up. It might take three days maar dan heb je ook wat. Hearts on photopaper.. yes.

Tomorrow I finally work with my actor and so, as a brave dutch, I spent all day thinking of what to do tomorrow.
But it gave me a the next questions > What if space is narrowed to a squere meter and you have to share it?
What if you die in this situation but you can do it all over again?
Offcourse this relates to the situation here. Two groups, the Palestinien and the settlers, in a too narrow space (sometimes fysically, sometimes mentally). Why denying this situation if it's their everyday live? This was the discussion between me Nina and Rosalie, and I think they're right in the end.
The roof where we look through to the audience could be a place of reflection, stuck between heaven and earth.
Death always confronts life, it brings us down to the questions that matter. And since Mohammed had a funeral these days I think this is the way we should search. The (also personal) search for real contact goes on.
(and if that means a spit in the neck so be it)

'love' 

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 8 - no love today but hope for tomorrow

Sometimes a day is not ment to actually get things done.

After several nights with 6 hours sleep I just wanted to sleep, but I didn't, I passed my breakfast to join the group for a tour. Once I was there and the tourguide didn't seem like a young fast walking guy I headed back for food. I wanted to work (but I could have slept in).

The title is not totally correct. But let me keep that for the end of this story. 

The first two hours I spend on my macbook to try to get my heartpictures ready for printing,

then I spend a few hours- searching for a shop to print them. In the end I only had 9 vaque black and white prints on ugly paper and I felt like I spend all my energy for that day allready (imagine walking trough tourists in narrow streets for hours).

I went to see the boys, the twinrappers. There was no way for them to actually make something theatrically interesting together without mentioning politics, and I excused myself for my arrogance yesterday.

That was the end of the line with them I thought, but Merlijn knew how to make them enthousiastic again, some karacteristic I can be very jalours about.... 

I decited to expand my collection of heart - and shopping window puppet - pictures. Somehow they are even uglier and stranger than yesterday. 

As a vegetarien I didn't come across a lot of different kinds of food.  I eat white pitabread, falafel, humus, cuecomber, tomato and sometimes spinich/cheese. 

After being bribed by a cabdriver again, waiting for food when hungry, changing restaurant and waiting again I gave up for today. (Also my blog is not the best one this week by the way)

I walked back on my own realising I need space to feel comfortable. Just like the locals tell me. 

But, as promissed; something positive: I went to the location where I perform with Mohammed. Good news; he's evailable from monday again.

That means we have 3 days to make the performance. But the location is so inspiring! There is a hole in the roof so I like to see talking heads there haha. Let you know!

btw I collected 41 hearts now (pictures that is).

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 7 - meeting rappers and searching for love

 Today I searched for love. Why? Because when media highlights one side of reality, it seems really big. And what we see in the news is mostly negative and destructive. I'dd like to highlight another side of Israel > 

Rappers in the mood...

Yesterday Mohammed, my partner told me that the father of his wife died. When these things happen they get priority above all things and it brings you back to the things that really matter. 

Nevertheless I have no actor for the next days, so I concentrated on two rappers that already collaberated last year for this festival. They performed some songs for me and I let them hear mine from ten years ago. 

The twins are 16 but look like 26, and after seeing them rap I'm sure it's not because of there looks.

They took me to their home and when we walked accros the souk (market) I felt less like a tourist, because I was with them, handshaking every ten meters with their friens or familly. Sometimes they kiss on the cheeks (2,3 or even 6 times) sometimes they shake hands and sometimes they hug. I asked what was the difference for them and it was just about how long ago you last saw a person.

Mohammed (yes, his name was also Mohammed) was the one to speak to, as he was the only one who spoke some English. 

He welcomed me to their house. First he showed me the camera's that are installed even at the back of these houses to guard the Palestinians. "this is our kitchen" and he laughed when he was pointing out two gaspits. He greedet his mother by taking her hand, kiss it and put his forehead on her hand, three times. His twinbrother Ali did the same. I was deeply touched by this gesture while thinking of my own mother. 

He showed me the living room which was also their sleeping room: 2 by 3 meters for the mother her two sons and their friend, which was there all the time with us but didn't say a word. I guess saying words was ment for the rappers. A verry small window with thick metal bars that we see in front of allmost all windows in this area, gave us the view of some squere meters from the souk below. The boys just want to perform there songs, which are very political, and that's not exactly what this underground festival is about. It's about small stories, personal ones that have (mostly) nothing to do with the tensions between cultures and politics. They were not very interested to share a personal story and who can blame them? We are so used to deal with freedom in the Netherlands that we have a lot of space and time to choose our daily kind of bread. I feel pretty stupid now with my 'positive' ideas from last afternoon.

Tomorrow I meet them again in the cultural centre where we can rehearse. I will check the location where I am supposed to perform with the other Mohammed my partner. Also I would like to work again on wispering eachothers lenguages in the ear so that the other one shares it with the public. 

It's a nice way of feeling responsebility for your wordchoise. It's a nice way to show transparancy and innocence, it's a nice way of saying: I could be you.

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com

DAY 5 & 6 - Nablus performance, with refugee campers

Nablus, Westbank. 

  Rolling marbles with the kids.

 

    a boy was waving from the little window, he was maybe 2 years old. We waved for 9-10     seconds.

    In the picture above we see posters to honor the (Palestanien) marters,  we see posters every few meters.

In the cultural centre of Nablus we worked one day with kids from the camp, where 11.000 people live on 700m2 ground. That's why the streets are so narrow (pic). 

We made music together, performed together... and suddenly you feel connection is more important then good western quality results. Hartwarming to see these kids with such openness and graditude. How relieving for us to not be busy with scoring for ourselfs, but with people.

We asked a boy on the street to get us some drinks and we give him 10 Sjekel. He came back with 5 cans and 5 Sjekel. "Here take the 5 Sjekel (1 euro)" 

But he did not know what we ment, he did not want it.

 

 My mind is used to think that people want something when they speak to you. Not here. They really just say hi, or welcome, or "what's your name". No matter how poor or rich. Offcourse there are acceptions, mostly when you walk in some touristic centre. 

It's so chaotic. Everybody just walks in and out. I'm really not used to that. I can not put my stones together, during the performance, but it's ok. It's not about results, really not. No. No problem check.

 Falafal goes in very easely, but it's difficult to get out.

Luckely that gave me time to think a little, and i had a nice idea for that night:

He speaks Arabic in my ear, and I (without any Arabic soundrecognission abbility) send it to the public. Seriously funny. Me trying to say the next text in Arabic that is.... (because my partner uses me as a puppet, a mouth)

"There are many ways to communicate. I like to speak with my heart, because it is difficult to speak with the mouth.  I don't know what i'm saying, but I trust this guy, he's ok.... he's very ok!! But i'm ok too and all of you are ok, peace!"

Where there is smoke, there is fire. But I never know what the fire is. These days we saw and heared a lot of smoke and blasts / the checkpoints for the westbank are heavy metal / the tensions in the streets are touching the hairs in my neck >  but still, that's just one reality out of many. 

(and still, I'm so thankfull for the luxurious problems in my daily life at home)

Want to see more about me and my performance artwork? www.nicksteur.com