Theatre has purpose, be it entertainment, exploring different opinions like in feminist, or trying to see new avenues of story telling. Because of these different ideals of what theatre and the cultures in different nations, theatre has branched out to these different art-forms, even time periods make for differences. no one theatre is better than the other as they all have a purpose but some performances can fail if they do not live up to some of the expectations of their theatre type.

Here are some theatrical types I have noticed to have a central theme.
Butoh- the horrors of the bombs and the twisted nature.
Feminist- why are there stereotypes of gender roles and why should we continue to abide by them.
Performance art- the visual body as an art rather than a story as art.
Musicals- art of combining dance, song, and character acting.
Opera and Operetta- the narration of stories through singing or a mix of singing and acting
Regional theatre- plays and performances of any type, expressing the problems of the country they are in
Postmodernism- the recreation or re-written of previous stories as theatre

1000 words

                I looked at the dust covered streets wind their way from house to house as they lead to the main road. Foreign cars and petrol fumes pollute the tarmac as they move from city to city along the coast. They growled obscenely loud as the more privileged members of society made their way to their busy lives. None of this mattered to me as I made my way to my house. The town I lived in was littered with poorly made squares of corrugated iron and wooden planks. The people who run this country seem to ignore or just not care about us. Crime is an ever present threat but for others it is their way of life and how they cope with living in such conditions. We all called this place home, because for some it could be worse.

 I saw the other children all playing soccer on the ochre coloured dirt, trying to make the most of their time. The ball has almost all the covering ripped off from several years of being passed down year by year. But that doesn’t stop them from having at least some fun. Those are the luckier ones. They have their schooling although their education is limited by both their willingness to work and shortage of money. Kids like me have to work in order for us to get through the day with bread. They have a source of food every afternoon and morning. And what is it that makes them so much luckier than me or my brother. They have parents.

I brought down my beanie closer down my ears as I told myself not to get distracted by their loud cheers and boos as the one side scores. It was becoming late and I had to get back to my brother. As I was passing they were shaking hands and having a good laugh with each other as they too left to head back to their houses for dinner. I would only be too happy to join them, but I had work to do. It was getting colder. As night fell and I got closer to our makeshift house the streetlights came on flickering almost as if they were shivering with me. When I reached the shelter I gently shook my younger brother awake to show him the spoils of the day’s work. I had managed to pickpocket twenty bucks and had got some bread for us to eat that night. We both dug in and after we were done my brother offered me my sheet, but I declined and gave it to my brother who was still very cold.

I noticed a bit later my younger brother finally fell asleep; I took this moment to sit and wonder how I will manage as we get older. We cannot afford to live our lives just by stealing. The older we get the more risky and dangerous the jobs would be. I cannot allow my brother to fall into the same problem I have. Neither can we go to an orphanage; there is always the problem of corruption and adults who will abuse us, physically or sexually. The more I think of these problems the angrier and more useless I feel. In order for me to keep my brother safe is to at least get him to a trustworthy family, he is younger and that way he is safe from my crimes and hopefully poverty. I adjusted my beanie as it was starting to make my head itchy. But I need money too, tomorrow will be the last of my pick pocketing, tomorrow I will fetch us a prize large enough that I can focus on getting my brother to a foster family.

I woke up the next morning and told the same lie that I always told my brother. I tell him that I have to go to work in the factory a few meters up road. I suppose it isn’t a total lie usually, since that is where I get my easy pickings but today I make a turn for the main road and follow it down towards the busy bustling city. The road was long and took a good two hours to get to the city, and was especially hard without enough good clean water. The city was amazing and yet horrible. The towers dwarfed everything, I knew that they were big but now I actually came to one. The buildings looked clean and flaunted their wealth to everyone at the bottom. But what disgusted me was the wealth being left on the sides of the building and between the cracks. Small items of food and clothing that if they were combined together could make anyone’s life in our town so much better. But the smell tells me why people don’t flock to get someone else’s scraps. After seeing these sights, I made up my mind, if someone thinks that they can waste this much money and resources on trash and their ego’s they would not be so sad if they were to lose just a few more bucks, or even jewellery.

I straightened my beanie and made my way for a more crowded area, full of people bumping into each other. That way I would not be as noticeable as I bump into people to make off with their cash. I got to one of the larger buildings that were closer to the beach. The place was full of people on the beach paying little attention to their belongings and more to them having fun. The beach here was much more swim friendly as there were no rocks jutting out, but the sheer amount of people made fishing seem out of the question. There are even people out surfing, even if the sea is full of sharks. I suppose I should be like one of those surfers, fearless and just go in, I’ve done this many times before, I need to do this for my brother.

1000 exactly

Julius Caesar Cassius and Brutus weblog

                Cassius is criticising peoples view of Julius Caesar and how they blindly follow and speak of how he is a god. He is telling Brutus that Caesar is nothing but a man and is as fallible and as weak as any other person. He starts off by saying “I was born as free as Caesar; so were you: we both have fed as well, and we can both endure the winters cold as well as he” (A1:S2 97-99). Cassius is telling Brutus that he was born as normal and lived as normal as any other person as well as gone through no worse problem than others either. Yet Cassius takes this further by saying that of not just being the same he and Brutus are better than Caesar. Cassius does this by an anecdote about how he had saved Caesar’s life from drowning in the Tiber river, and yet he is now a god and Cassius a “wretched creature” (117) and of how Caesar had once got sick and “How he did shake; ‘tis true, this god did shake” (120-121).

                The next part of his argument he starts to speak less of Caesar part in this oppression and more of how the people have let themselves be swayed into getting ruled by a murderer. He does this by comparing Brutus’ name with that of Caesar and saying how Brutus has just as much right to rule as Caesar. And as a final note Brutus then speaks “till then my noble friend, chew upon this: Brutus would rather be a villager than to repute himself a son of Rome”. That speaks of how Brutus has disconnected himself with the rest of Rome all because of a doctoral leader who calls himself better but is hypocritically no more a human than a god. So Cassius had get brutes to his view.

309

cover explanation

my cover is quite simple in design as well as few in colour. the reason i kept the colour scheme simple was so that i could make the colour red standout further and show that the colour had a sort of deep significance. The symbolism i was trying to show was that the colour red symbolised a sort of "crumby" thing. the pictures and items i chose were ones that people associate sin and crimes with like the martini, an alcoholic beverage, and money, an item known for being the root of all evil. i went for this harsh sinister and violent tone to express the books sinister mood. the hat was another symbol i found to be repetitive and seemingly important, but i did not know what at the time of making the cover, but now i know it has something to do with child like innocence or rather the hat is the lack thereof .

Comin Thro’ the Rye

               This poem holds in it a strong emotional feel to it from the talk that is almost synonymous to crying and sadness, such as “O, Jenny’s a weet, poor body, Jenny’s seldom dry” (Burns 1-2). This poem gives a mysterious feel to the woman named Jenny for there is little to go by on her background. What can be said about her is that she is wearing a ‘petticoatie’ which is more commonly seen being worn by the more high societal class given the estimate of the time period this poem takes place in. Also the crying is attributed to this woman giving her some degree of emotional depth but little in the way of knowing what it is she is crying about. Further insight shows an inconsistency, the rye. The rye is a type of grain crop and ‘comin thro’ the rye’ could mean she is trying to run away or hide from something, the inconsistency is the fact that Jenny is described as wealthy yet rye is crop that a farmer plants to feed his family and she doesn’t seem to relate with farmers.

               Looking at the some of the verses there is mention of two separate bodies, “Gin a body meet a body” (Burns 9). This second body might provide answers as to the reason for the woman crying. The lines “Gin a body kiss a body, Need a body cry?” (Burns  11-12) shows indication that there was love involved  but the question that follows might indicate that she did not manage to get a kiss for the question implies that a kiss is not something to cry about. That could take two meanings, one she did not get kissed and is crying for the fact or two, she did get kissed and the narrating voice is confused as to why the woman is still crying.

314

The things they carried self appointed topic

One thing I noticed in the story is Lieutenant Cross’s connection to his lesser. It could be said that although he did not connect emotionally with them since he was distracted by Maria, but rather that the squad symbolised Cross as a person. For example Henry Dobbins big size and masculinity symbolised Cross’s authority over the whole group, whereas Ted Lavender symbolised coping, fear and overall weakness that Cross had by using Maria.

               Each man in a squad has specific roles and has to work together almost as if they are one person. That one person is the leader of the squad and in this case is Lieutenant Cross. As such, each man represents one part as Lieutenant Cross. To star we have Rat Kiley, the medic. He is the one in charge of keeping everyone alive, and yet he was helpless to save Ted. This symbolises Lieutenant Cross’s responsibility to take care of his men and failure to keep Ted Lavender alive due to lax leadership. Then going back to Henry Dobbins as a big masculine and tough person, it symbolises the rigidity a man needs in order to lead his men. Then there is Lee Strunk who carried a slingshot, a childish weapon, as a last resort weapon. This childish ‘weapon’ also called a toy symbolises the teams childish less disciplined and even reclusive nature, as well as Cross’s lack of strict rule.

               The last man that is important to symbolise is Ted Lavender. He was the most scared out of all the soldiers in the squad. He tried to cope with the war through dope and tranquilisers. He was a symbol of fragility and was a catalyst into turning Cross into the man he became through his death. For what Ted symbolised to Cross was coping. For before Ted died Cross used his daydreams and mementoes from Maria to cope with the war situation. When Ted died that coping mechanism died with him and a new stricter way to cope with the war formed in Cross’s mind and it showed in his actions towards his men.

350

conventional versus the unconventional

This story is confusing. It is confusing because of the controversial and nonsense tales that the substitute, Miss Ferenczi, tells. Conventional means, in a sense, that it is normal or generally accepted, so i guess her stories are considered such. How such unconventional stories combines with the conventional would be picking at straws, however there is a sense of connection between her generally unacceptable stories to the generally accepted minds of youngsters. for instance, people accept that young kids have good imagination, but do not accept that gryphons exist, yet here the two mix. more to the point it is the 6x11=68 debacle that truly signifies this relationship of her stories to child mentality.
there is also a sense that the unconventional is fleeting and brief. this is viewed as Miss Ferenczi only being a substitute teacher, only a brief replacement whereas Mr Hibler is the actual teacher and even at the end it goes from the fantastical back to the norm, "when Mr. Hibler would certainly return and test us on our knowledge" (56 Baxter).