I Was in a Musical about Silence, Part II

What Does Silence Sound Like?

"Oh Lord, You Know, I'm tired."

Is there anything louder than silence? 

That is the question we set out to answer as we stepped onto the stage at the Ministry of Education, Sports and Culture's Arts and Culture Center on Wednesday, December 6th 2023. I remember vividly the bright harshness of the spotlight as it illuminated our first scene, 'School Choir', against a blue-dark auditorium. I'll never stop being in awe of how stage and theater performers weave magic into the atmosphere, right before "a thousand eyes", as Sia once sang. Said audience was, that day, a mix of bubbly teenagers and thoughtful, maybe slightly cynical, adults. And why shouldn't they have been? We were bringing to stage a locally produced, locally directed showcase that was going to do the still-difficult work of opening up conversations about Intimate Partner Violence and Domestic Violence. Of weaving words and music into the spaces where silence belies the existence of such nuances as mental abuse, microaggressions and unexpressed psychological trauma.

The magic of Performing Arts is felt not only by the audience. We as a cast experienced it too, in a very real way that gave us strength and agility, maybe even more than we had during the dress rehearsal the previous day. From Eseta and Benjamin's melancholic opening dance, 'Tired', to my brother's narration of performance poet Ioane Otineru's post-colonial ode to gender disparities in Samoa, everyone felt strong and so performed STRONG. Our first review, by pioneering Samoan performance poet and novelist Sia Figiel, commended the "physical and emotional strength (as well as the) conviction and confidence" with which the production was presented.

When I stepped on stage to perform my first piece, 'Ode to She Who Held Up the World', I felt a power and urgency that pushed me to remember every single word. It also encouraged me to give our audience the full gamut of all the many, MANY emotions that I feel about generational silences and the way religion, economics and culture weave a 'quilt' of trauma around so many mother-daughter relationships. I thought of my Samoan grandmother- herself a mother to three daughters and a grandmother as well as great-grandmother to many more. It was not until she was gone that I learned she had always dreamed of doing the very thing I was now blessed to be doing: writing for and performing on stage. It made me sad and it made me angry and somewhere between the two, I found a new kind of strength. My main emotion 'generator' has always been sense memory, so I thought of my father when I sang those words, ua fa'afetai Iesu, Lou alofa, ua e aumai mo matou nei ni tina. Really good art forces the artist to look within themselves and find truth, or at least, meaning. When a thing means something, we feel it. And when we feel it, the art has done its job. It is successful. It is a nice song or a good book or a funny movie.

I am not a dancer (not in public, at least 😂). Dance is on my bucket list of 'talents' that I want to somehow manifest myself into having. For this reason- but also because dance is beautiful- I have a very focused way of watching people when they dance. Samoa Performing Arts and Creative Excellence (S.P.A.C.E) produces some of the most magnificent, genre-bending dances Samoa has ever seen. Their storytelling is articulate to the point where words would only serve to misconstrue and spoil what is already perfectly clear and heavily palpable. Of all the things I love about S.P.A.C.E, one of the main ones is the willingness of their director, the brilliant Valentino Maliko, to let new and aspiring dancers join and also to work closely with them. Alofau Rile, my auspicious and highly ambitious student, had a late-night epiphany and decided he wanted to be part of the dances too. That they gave him the space and support to find his footing and leap into success is testament to how the right people in the right place can make dreams come true. Benjamin, Grace, Elisapeta, Eseta, Alofau and Tamiana all have unique ways of moving and feeling the beats and rhythms. They are, after all, individuals. No two people will dance the same dance to the same song in exactly the same way. I noticed this immediately in the all-male number, set to Hozier's 'Take Me to Church'. Where Tamiana's hand movements are strong and well-defined, Alofau's are graceful and fluid, whilst Benjamin's are swift and bouncy, with a hint of wit and gentle humor.

Even our poetry readings and recitations brought with them the unique personalities of each poet. Where Sia Figiel described my style as "commanding", she emphasized that Krystal's piece was "dexterous" and complementary to it. Lars, a rapper, brought in bars that hurled the message of SHE IS NOT YOUR REHAB at an eager audience who caught every rhyme and line. I think about it now as, many different voices amplify a common cause and help achieve a common goal. Our strength is in our differences.

Like any live performance, there were a few funny moments. Music queued at the wrong time, some wardrobe malfunctions, I even forgot my plain black tee in the morning rush and had to turn my 'HUSH' cast t-shirt inside-out for my narrations. But the combined good work ethic and high levels of trust between cast and crew put on what I know was a great show. And the reviews have all been stellar! (Also, people wanna buy t-shirts of us, so I'm guessing we looked good too, lol).

We've just wrapped filming our musical, something that I will talk about in a later post. For now, I am grateful, and I feel HEARD. The story has been told, and now, it is up to those who listened to live it, learn from it and pass it on. Also, someone said we should go on tour...

The cast of 'HUSH: The Musical' with directors: 

L-R: FRONT ROW- Benjamin Lelevaga (dancer, chorus member [tenor])Tamiana Olano (dancer, chorus member [tenor]), Lars Gustaf Bell (rapper/ narrator) 

CENTER- Maluseu Doris Tulifau (producer/ director/writer), Eseta Corrine Uili (dancer, chorus member [soprano]), Yvette Alalatoa (producer/director/writer), Abbey Tofamamao Heather (chorus lead singer, actress ['the Teacher], singer (soloist, 'Rise Up'), Krystal Elizabeth Juffa (singer [duet], chorus member [soprano], actress ['Toxic Girlfriend'], performance poet/narrator, writer), Grace Pauga Greed (chorus member [soprano], dancer, actress [' Silent Mother']), Jasmine Koria (chorus member [alto], writer, performance poet/narrator, singer [soloist, song as part of monologue, 'Ua Fa'afetai Iesu Lou Alofa']), Nathan Sam Pomare (chorus member [tenor], actor ['Toxic Boyfriend'], singer [duet])Valentino Maliko (director, choreographer, musical arrangements)

BACK ROW- Brown Girl Woke Representative (name not provided), Elisapeta Fepulea'i (dancer, chorus member [alto], actress ['Questioning Daughter']), Alofau Rile (dancer, writer, chorus member [tenor]), Daniel Koria (narrator, writer, text editor)

 NOT PRESENT- Ioane Otineru (writer)

I Was In A Musical about Silence, PART I

HUSH, and other Sounds

The beginnings of HUSH: The Musical

Starring: Nathan Sam Pomare, Krystal Elizabeth Juffa, Jasmine Koria, Daniel Koria, Tamiana Olano, Alofau Rile, Benjamin Lelevaga, Grace Pauga Greed, Elisapeta Fepulea'i, Abbey Tofamamao Heather, Eseta Corrine Uili, and Lars Gustaf Bell 

The Official Poster for HUSH: The Musical (2023).

Two weeks ago I was in my first-ever musical. The work was a collaborative production of Brown Girl Woke, Samoa Performing Arts and Creative Excellence (S.P.A.C.E), the United Nations Education, Social and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) and the Ministry of Education, Sports and Culture (MESC). I was a writer, vocalist and narrator/performance poet in the show. Busy does not even begin to describe this season of my life. 

At our first writing session, we, the writing team, threw around several onomatopoeic words and phrases. We knew right from the beginning that we wanted the narrative to have a poetic, lyrical flow. Think, ocean waves and sandy sea breezes. The focus of our work was to be IPV (intimate partner violence) and DV (domestic violence), and the way in which silence both perpetuates and prolongs these societal woes. We talked about the sound 'shhh' that is often heard when a child talks too loudly. 'Shh' is a very interesting expression- it can also be used to menacingly get someone's attention, or to jokingly brush off someone's attention. For some reason, as we all sat around the table making the 'shh' sound, the word 'HUSH' came to my mind. I blurted out, 'Shh sounds like HUSH!"...and everyone thankfully indulged my idea (lol). Thus, the musical got its name. And the serious work of drafting scenes, sequences, choosing songs and arranging the cast list began. 

One of the things I am most thankful for is that I starred in my first musical under amazing direction. Brown Girl Woke's Doris Tulifau and Yvette Alalatoa, and S.P.A.C.E's Valentino Maliko were an absolute dream to work for. They were visionary, perceptive, creative and super accommodating of our cast's different schedules (and personalities!). Directing and producing a musical in the developing Pacific is very different from running a show in, say, Auckland or Sydney. For one thing, you will most likely be working with artists whose 'art' is but a part-time or spare-time endeavor. Most people- especially young people- in our part of the world cannot afford to do their craft full time. The majority of our cast, and even the directors themselves, has full-time work and study schedules PLUS a myriad of family and community obligations that we had to very carefully work around. Then, of course, there were the usual setbacks like illness and bad weather. I should know...I had a bad episode of vertigo mid-week, two weeks before the show opened. I literally woke up in the E.R (fun times!) with a nurse (who happened to be a former student of mine!) telling me I had low blood pressure. Side note, I could barely talk but was so bloody proud to see my student living out the full fruition of his dream! Yay for Pacific success :)

Something I'll never forget is the human compassion and kindness that our directing team extended. They wanted the show to be a success, yes, but they also cared deeply about the health and well-being of their performers. I got the rest of the week off and they checked in on me constantly. Dream work environment, if ever there was one!

The final cast was a twelve-member ensemble. We were all versatile performers, the majority of us being able to sing, dance, write AND act. The Pacific is brimming with talent, but still lacks opportunity. Just before opening day, my brother arrived from Melbourne for his usual end-of-year holiday. He's an amazing performance poet, writer and rapper, so of course I kinda-sorta talked him into joining us. Yes, Samoa is THAT small-you and your entire family be in a play together before you know it 😂 

As a cast, we got on GREAT. Everyone was super supportive- there is nothing quite like knowing your co-workers are truly, genuinely rooting for you. If I had to attribute our success to any one single thing, it'd definitely be this. We had a lot of laughs, and a ton of great conversations about everything from where we grew up to how to become TikTok famous. Remember when Nelly sang "we started as strangers, now we leavin' as brothers'? Yeah. This was the vibe. We worked long nights sometimes, plus there was the general exhaustion and of course, for us narrators, a couple of slip-ups and forgetting lines. But we worked through it, and an absolute gem of a lesson that I have learned from this experience is that PEOPLE make all the difference. You can have the most high-tech, state-of-the-art facilities or the biggest budget in the world. An unsupportive team holds everyone back. I'm so blessed, so grateful, that this was not our case. We were a team in that cliche but important way: together, everyone achieve(d) more. Thanks team!

(to be continued...)

Dear Women In History (an open letter to the girls in my History classes)

RE: Be Brave

Dear Francine, Susana, Kanisshi, Happy, Lemonoria, Misialofa and Maggie,

This week you graduated and I remembered how we talked in History class about Bismarck and the two contrasting Kaisers. Be brave because women of our complexion are still largely missing from the narratives and discourses that are supposedly "World History." Not two hundred years ago, no one like us had dreams like you- not out loud, at least: law school, medicine, education, classical music. We were not allowed so we went about not breaking the mould, not talking too loud. Fit in, fit in. They told us.

As you fly away, be brave because 'good music' still looks like Beethoven and Mendelssohn. White and male. When you played 'Waltzing Matilda' on the strings that day, you held all of recorded History by its singular thin thread. Don't be careful. Challenge it and challenge them and CHANGE IT ALL. Write your Samoan names on the Berlin Wall (or what's left of it...), and break down the walls that want you to stay small. You are tall so stand tall.

Be brave, most of all, because life is difficult and the world is cold. You know the Cold War was about ideas, so THINK, so DREAM, so touch the sky and plant your own flag on the moon. Many things and people will stand in your way, but don't you be one of them. Get out of your own way and lead the way.

Our ancestors knew every constellation by name. Be brave because you are descended from navigators and seafarers and mathematicians. Be brave for your families, and be brave because it takes courage to remember. And to forget. Such is History. And such is life. 

Love,
Ms. K

With Francine Ausage, my top Year 13 History student of 2023, and her classmate, Susana Lina John. 

READING RECOMMENDATIONS :)

💭 Every few blog entries, I'll recommend two books from my reading list. I'm a very eccentric reader, so I'll post everything from historical fiction to homicidal manifestos.  

1.

"There is nothing special in (you)...it is in those who love (you)." 

Klara is an AF- an 'artificial friend'. Literally. She's the product of decades of scientific and social progress. And she's just one of several million 'friends' whose main purpose is to provide moral and intellectual companionship to the new class of genetically 'elevated' human children. In Ishiguro's usual heartbreaking, genre-bending style, Klara and the Sun is a masterpiece. Thoughtful, earnest, observational and with slight undertones of parody, the story of Klara's misunderstood and unconditional love for her human 'friend' Josie will stay with you long after you've turned the last leaf of this book. 

If you want a deluge of thought-provoking quotes, a cry over your 3pm coffee, or a springboard for your own existential questions about what it means to be human and what it means to love and be loved, THIS is for you. 

2. 

If POWER were a play, I know it'd be this one. 

A Raisin in the Sun is at once arresting and inspiring. The mundane suburban backdrop is coloured by the various painful hues of mid-50s America's civil rights struggles. Race, gender, social class and "no money" clash head-on in this celebration of faith, family and fearlessness. From the aspiring Black female doctor (we see you, Beneatha!) to the 'past-his- time' alcoholic father who is caught between his hope for a better future for his son and his disillusionment at the barriers that stand in the way of non-White Americans. To the starry-eyed, slightly deluded scholarship student from 'the motherland' and the well-to-do suitor who struggles to reconcile the labels he bears, 'black' and 'rich.' This dramedy is for you if you've ever asked the question: "what happens to a dream deferred?"