This need to be in English. As I enter this writing, I'm sitting outside, at the Tapas-restaurant, simply called Mat og Vin, in the colloquial tongue. The Spanish people or rather artists of the Barcelonean Company Xirriquiteula Teatre, are sitting at the next table, .... All the actors leave, expect the director of this years featured new circus performance. I go to the toilet, when I come back, interference have occured: Very good, call me maria, ....The objectivity of the critic is blasted once and for all. Not only do they, in the circusperformance Call me Maria, ardently interact with spectactors on stage, they enter this writing as well. Adrian, himself, who also fathered the Gurus of Xirriquiteula visiting PIT last year; I cannot take it away. it is very good. And perhaps, there is a secret, call me Maria? He is not entirely happy; something seem to irritate him; actually he expresses an urge to make trouble. «You Norwegians don't have any problems; that is your problem». The situation in south of Europe... We don't really hear about it, and what we eventually are hearing, is tilted. The Media companies, and the state is part of the oppressive system...
Some hours later, a new day; again I encounter Adrian; a master in the peculiar field of interactivity, now as streetartist with a painted moustache, a suite, with stripes, light colours and a trolley loaded with possible surprises. His character, Juan, is alone and grumpy. He speaks Spanish, but even the kindergarden children seem to understand. Juan, a Spanish player out of time, the 50's, I guess. His partner Lucia has left him; and it becomes obvious that he's looking for a substitute, for the dance show, the great number which the performance revolves around. Interactive theatre can be as painful as theatre may be, or Circus for that matter. Well, Call me Maria was not painful, which is something I cannot å say for Adrians street performance. In Call me Maria the spectactors who where used melted wonderfully into the show, the setting of Bar Manolo, Spain in the 50's under American influence. Rock'n Roll and able seamen, navyboys. In the Streetperformance, Juan & Lucia, Adrian, is able to maneuvre from one painful situation to the next in a fashion that pushes me to reconsider another criteria of judgement I must admit still have clinged to me, involuntarily. In the long run aestetic rules seem to be overrun. In the end there are no secrets. In other words, I am perfectly able to enjoy streetartists putting causual spectators in situations which they may find extremely embarrassing; painful as love. Juan finds a substitute and the performance is renamed Juan & Heidi.. A man picked from the audience is holding a tiny chalkboard all through the streetshow. Juan wipes out Lucia, and writes the name of the woman who now perform the star of the show. Another man is put behind the barrel organ, as the trolley is disclosed, rolling on and on. In the beginning she, Heidi, convinces the audience, despite her body omitting neurons. She is physically fit and performs the cartwheel to a great applause. But her control of the situations doesn't last. Juan & Maria became Juan & Heidi became Juan & Salma. As I continue to write between performances and festival escapades, my red thread, Adrian, arrives again, with a bike at Friisebrygga Mat og Vin. He is happy; the Call me Maria was better today, Friday, than yesterday; when I saw it. Critics should be aware of such, penetrate the surface of things; a critic should aim for the metaphysical reality. Adrian, the director and streetartist, and so many things, he tells me, even Opera. I'm trying to figure out what actually enables me to enjoy this breaking of the rule (a rule I didn't suppose I obliged) Adrian is doing. I'm especially thinking of his streetcharacter's play on rather painful emotions. As I wrote there are no secrets and if there are, in this new world we need to share. And that is exactly it. The whole setting of Juan is that he is alone. Or even in the catastrophic situation of being left. Lucia has left him. Therefor he needs help, everybody understand this, even kindergarden children. He make people share their things; potatochips, coffée, water, umbrella, and so on and so on... It's a fundamental generousity, with the rudeness that the necessity of spiritual liberation evokes. I will get back to more on Call me Maria.
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