The day The Balloon Orchestra came to town!

Drumming- Elizabeth/Bruno/Alice

Squeaker/Plucker section - Louisa/Julia

'Singing' section - Jesse/Sarah 

Conducted by ~ Gwennie

The beautiful Balloon Orchestra took to the streets on Thursday. Met by confusion and applause, and even a few pennies in the hat. A lovely way to make the afternoon go with a Bang!

"I always saw better when my eyes were closed. . ."

On Monday, we blindfolded and led eachother through the streets of Livramento and Rivera.

On Tuesday, half of us went East and the other West, walking the line of the border and looking for potential performance spots.

To the West, we saw in the side roads a far more dilapidated side of Rivera. All the shiny shops changed into fruit and veg, self-made shacks and kids kicking around burst footballs. 

The actual line of the border was a small, grassy median in the middle of two loud, busy roads. After a while of walking and searching for something more ideal for a performance space, we tried to accept and embrace the environment that we had actually found. There, we hit a small section of the median where a few bushes and trees were growing. 

This was not a nice spot aesthetically, but following the blindfolded exercise we had done the day before, we made a quick experiment to discover this space using our other senses, and led eachother blindfolded through this leafy path, with the roar of cars on each side. 

I was interested in the duality of this experience. Being in a natural environment to the touch, but with the unnatural noise and smell of traffic highlighted the border as a place of both comfort and threat.

Without sight, borders become less defined as it heightens smells and sounds, which both flow and spread-they are not in any one place at a time. This was pertinent here, as the border is a place that simultaneously joins and seperates. It is a fluid space, where the two sides speak to eachother the most. 

It was also interesting that people said that the journey through the micro-wood here seemed far, when it was really only a couple of meters. The disorientating nature of the walk further merges the two sides, making distance a fluid notion.

In this way, the person being led is simultaneously knowing and unknowing the space, and is in a limbo between the borders of reality and imagination.

When we 'showed' our other half the space we had found, we led them as we had led eachother, blindfolded through the trees, touching bushy leaves, bark, and twigs underfoot, vulnerable to the noise of predatory cars surrounding them. As we went we spoke our texts to them, that we had chosen to resonate with themes of border. Sarah's was particularly relevant; a folkloric tale about a man battling through a metaphorical wood, Jesse's spoke of personal and political borders, and mine told them of "a good night, full of bad dreams..."

"...and all I remember are sparkle rocks, blue horses and flamingos,
 as my train comes in to slow. 

And I always saw better, when my eyes were closed. . ."

It was our day off yesterday. I got some batteries for my camera and spent the morning letting the mass of thoughts and ideas from the past week settle a little. I thought about;

Three angles of this tree:

Its roots rupturing the paving stones of the parque internacional. Borders being a fluid concept.

The reverse. Caves as a space for reflection and introspection-the borders between our inner and outer selves.

Also, Professor Micheal telling us to "fuck the park". (sorry mum, its a direct quote).

The path leading to it. Borders between the known and unknown. The marked track and the undiscovered. 

The different characteristics of pathways and their effect on the walker. The relationship between paths in nature and those in concrete.

This tree by the lake, also bursting its manmade confines.

And flying machines.

Um. One.

The week began with a more factual reading of the two towns/countries. Their history and the relationship between them. Some images that went down on paper show Livramento on the left and Rivera on the right. 

Cyprus trees. Marking pathways in a park in Livramento; and one at the market, right on the border of Riveramento market place-its roots in both.

Market stalls facing eachother either side of the border. Organic facing inorganic. Tents and variety/metal lockers and trainers.

Snippets of our walk from Brazil to Uruguay. Nice crumbling architecture, herbal medicine stalls, smashed windows-to buildings made of glass and the casino tourist attractor. 

This picture in relation to what a local said about wanting progress in Brazil, but not the type that blindly whitewashes and 'modernises'. How important it is to start preserving the buildings and history of Livramento.

These aren't the best sketches. I did them whilst walking along the road. But it is interesting that by drawing them, I have consequentially drawn my responses to the towns. Ie. the organic way in which Livramento's buildings grew over the page, how bored I clearly was drawing this part of Rivera, as well as not drawing any people in the market lockers there.

A few months ago, whilst reading about some of the first female explorers, I wrote to a friend complaining that I wanted to be an Explorer, but that there were no voyages setting sail these days. Within a few weeks, I see that Fronteiras Theatre Lab are looking for just that! And here I am, about to embark on a journey through the sky and overland, to a place that I only have clues as to what it might be like...

I try to understand how far we will be going. I wonder if it will feel like a long way or if the aeroplane will make it feel short. I wonder whether three weeks will be fast or slow. I wonder who we will meet, what we will see, whether the little Portuguese/Spanish I know is actually still somewhere in my head, waiting to be reactivated, or if I will be left speechless. I wonder what responses will come from this place and our collaborations.

Having packed, unpacked and repacked, I finally just check that I have my passport and that I am prepared for the unexpected.

...