#I NEED TO SEE HANNAH'S EURYDICE

[mel-street]

suspiciously close to dropping a concerning amount of money to get hadestown tour tickets

[hallowed-wings]

hallo! :D i'm gonna send 8 in two separate asks and u two can divide them up however you'd like (sorry if that's too many askdfjaksf) - for this one, 1, 2, 7, 8

[ helloooo this is ashes here!! we've split it up so we each take one set of four and then nab questions we want from the others set too. this is also my second go at answering this because the first draft didn't save :'] ]

[ 1 ] Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

so i'm legally required to have several things cooking up at once /lh so I have a bunch of stuff on the backburners (very far back but in my defense it's exam season and i'm tired) such as a character/location study 5+1 things style (though im unsure if it is an actual 5+1 or just like. several segments with the same theme) on l'manhole, a desert duo 5+1 from grians pov (actually a 5+1 this time I swear) and a fic from when eret rescued michael whilst hannah george and sapnap played bedwars, due to a devastating (/pos) tiktok I saw, and a few other things! but they likely won't be my focus atm 😔☝️✨

my main project rn is the love of my life, my hadestown 3L (/LL/a touch of Empires ish) au!!! Jimmy is Orpheus. Scott is Eurydice. it's a tragedy. Cleo and Etho are Persephone and Hades and their relationship is a mess. aaaalllll that good stuff to come!! can't spoil too much. it's full of emotions, full of stuff I can't speak about tooooo much in case of spoilers but I've been working very hard on it!! the whole plan is written (though I keep adding more and more and more) and I've started writing chapter one! so it's very much in the works and I'M personally very much excited :]

[ 2 ] Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

there's twists and metaphors in my hadestown au (gods above it needs a name) that i'm super excited for and trying very much not to spoil!! but im very excited for hadestown!lizzie in particular, and more cleo content is always good :]!! hadestown!cleo is very lovely to me she means the world To Me. but yeah i love a good extended metaphor or twist, the sort that makes me feel VERY INTELLIGENT for put it there; i've run all these particular ones past riser to make him go MMMMM so i hope that bodes well 👀

[ 7 ] What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

i would say personally that my works are all very emotionally driven!!! not necessarily on purpose but almost every work boils down to a feeling or handful of feelings at its core. hadestown au is about love, my c!eret michael rescue fic is about grief and redemption, and so on! I also love metaphors. just so much. many metaphors all the time this isn't flowery writing this is a whole botanical garden!!!

i asked a few people and yeah I'd say they agree. riser says im very smart (true and so based /lh)!! but seriously no riser says i sometimes have lines that just bang severely ( i.e this, circa blue christmas. — Ghostbur’s thoughts tumble from his mouth the same way smoke drifts off from him; curling and aimless. ) and that i clearly understand structure and am brilliantly linguistically etc etc, another friend said that my writing was "quiet in the best way possible" "mature ; me and my husband + its sigh" and very cathartic, which I think is all pretty cool!

[ 8 ] Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

right see- the answer here is yes and no? because i'd say yes in terms of dynamic/characters, if i really like a dynamic/character i'll seek out their content and im more likely to probably write them, although that's! not always true! i wouldn't say i read a lot of puffy and niki content, but i have them featured in my l'manhole 5+1 things (which is going to be called my little versailles btw, from sufjan steven's fourth of july. very good song very sad </3), and i don't think i've ever written 4/4 sbi and yet i read Rather A Lot Of It??

but also. I grew up on high fantasy, and I still love it, i crave nothing more than complicated aus in settings fresher than the first lamb of spring (SEE IT IS to t; passerine) but can I be arsed to plan that thoroughly myself? no! i am simply cramming it in my mouth as fast as i can. ALSO READ A LOT OF WINGFIC AND DONT WRITE IT but I gotta write more about winged characters... do I know anything about birds? no I just. I like them.

gods above that was a rambly answer -

bonus thievin': [ 9 ] Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

i'm definitely a drabbler! i've never finished a longfic... ever... started Many but never finished them as much as i want to, with one semi-notable exception that still only exists in 4 and a half notebooks and needs to be typed up. i'm more of a pantser in general (which i LOATHE i wish i was more planned out), i tend to try and strike while the inspiration iron is hot (and boy oh boy is it a quickly cooling thing), but i'm trying to plan more. i find 5+1's the easiest to plan for because its so neatly chunked down, fun fact!! and my hadestown au has a whole plan and im very very proud of said plan :] so hopefully that will break the mould of unfinished longfics!

—

there u go! hope that wasn't too wordy/long/ rambly :] enjoy and thanks so much for the ask !

[letterboxd]

Spectacular Spectacular!

On the twentieth anniversary of its explosion onto big screens, Ella Kemp high-kicks into the Moulin Rouge! once again, accompanied by screenwriter Craig Pearce and a chorus line of jukebox-musical academics and swoony Letterboxd fans.

“You’re always writing for yourself, for the film you want to see. I like all kinds of different films and I think teenage girls do too.” —Craig Pearce, Moulin Rouge! co-writer

This is a story about love. A love born at the turn of the twentieth century in an iconic Parisian cabaret and brought to life in 2001 on Australia’s most spectacular sound stage. A valentine to excess, greed, fantasy and, above all, to the fundamental Bohemian ideals: truth, beauty, freedom and love. This is the story of Moulin Rouge! and how it still burns bright, two decades on, in the hearts of romantics all over the world.

The film, a fateful love story between penniless writer Christian and dazzling courtesan Satine—played by Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman—premiered at the Cannes Film Festival on May 9, 2001 and opened in New York and Los Angeles cinemas only weeks later, on May 18. Cast and crew fought hard to get it there: unimaginably, writer-director Baz Luhrmann’s father passed away on the first day of filming, and Kidman’s then-marriage was in turmoil. “There were times of beautiful moments, but there were times where we were like, ‘This is so hard’,” Luhrmann recently told an Australian journalist.

And, though this seems strange to say in a world that has since welcomed Mamma Mia!, Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman, making a movie musical early in the millennium was a high-risk pursuit. Luhrmann again: “‘Musicals will never be popular again’ … I can’t tell you how many times I was told that.”

“It’s part of a cycle,” explains Dr. Eleonora Sammartino, an academic specializing in contemporary American film musicals. “It came after a period in the 1990s where musicals had disappeared from the big screen.” Lisa Duffy, Letterboxd member and Doctor of Hollywood Musicals, agrees: “Films coming out [that year] were a lot more dour, so this was a real gamble.”

Nobody understood this gamble better than the film’s co-writer, Craig Pearce, who has been Luhrmann’s close friend and professional partner since the pair were students together. Moulin Rouge! is the third and final entry in what we now know as their red-curtain trilogy, alongside Strictly Ballroom (1992) and Romeo + Juliet (1996).

“Baz had been thinking about the parallels between the Moulin Rouge and Andy Warhol’s Factory,” Pearce recalls. “Places where artists congregate, where it’s more than a place, it’s a petri dish of creativity. Like The Factory, and Studio 54, the Moulin Rouge was a place where the old and the wealthy pay a lot of money to hang out with the young and the sexy.”

At the end of the twentieth century, however, the Moulin Rouge wasn’t all that great (the original had burnt down in 1915). Pearce recalls: “We went to Paris in 1999 on a research trip and discovered, to our horror, that the Moulin Rouge now is just a hideous tourist trap. So we had to go on this journey to find out how this amazing creativity—artists and dancers and musicians—came out of what now feels like this tawdry girlie show.”

With the location and period locked in, Pearce and Luhrmann worked to find the story’s driving force. “This movie wouldn’t work without the exclamation point,” writes Adelaide. Pearce is the first to admit this: “It’s saying it’s Moulin Rouge, but it’s not that one. What we’re trying to do is heighten truth, but you have to start with that underlying truth,” he explains. “It’s not casting around for ‘what would be a cool idea’ because you never come up with one. It’s never as interesting as the truth. Like, there was an elephant in the garden of the Moulin Rouge. And why does that matter? It matters because there are certain inherent logics in the way human beings operate.”

“It's a musical of recycled parts. It’s a story which, beat for beat, has been told for centuries. It’s a staged show drawn from the lives of the characters themselves… This is a film [that] is bold enough not just to say that all art is about finding your own meanings behind someone else’s ideas, and that all art is just copying and stealing, but that this can be totally valid and authentic. When Nicole Kidman sings ‘Your Song’ to the Duke, she’s stealing from the writer, and Luhrmann is stealing from Elton John. But when Ewan McGregor is singing to Kidman, it’s the most magical moment you could possibly imagine. That’s what makes ‘Moulin Rouge!’ a true masterpiece. Cinema has never been more fake, and cinema has rarely been more real.” —Sam

Moulin Rouge! borrows from all over. There are hints of La Traviata, of Cabaret and of Émile Zola’s Nana. There were Toulouse Lautrec’s paintings (John Leguizamo tremendously embodies the painter in the film), Baudelaire and Verlaine’s literature, Jason and the Argonauts, Homer’s Odyssey, and the revues of the 1920s and ’30s. “Moulin Rouge! really embraces that vaudevillian component,” says Dr. Hannah Robbins, a Broadway and Hollywood musicals specialist.

Craig Pearce and Baz Luhrmann writing in Paris (1998) and New York (2019). / Photos from Luhrmann’s Twitter

“This genre lends itself to repetition and fragmentation,” Sammartino expands. “It’s part of the syntax of the musical and has always been, this idea of borrowing from other sources. This doesn’t take away from the daring postmodern approach Moulin Rouge! is defined by, it’s simply further proof that it’s, well, a very good musical.”

Above all else, the core of Moulin Rouge! is inspired by the myth of Orpheus of Thrace and his doomed love affair with the beautiful Eurydice, whom he followed into Hades after she died. “The show must go on, Satine,” the nightclub’s impresario Harold Zidler grimly tells his star, as their world begins to crumble. “We’re creatures of the underworld. We can’t afford to love.”

It wasn’t the first time Pearce and Luhrmann had looked to ancient mythology. Strictly Ballroom’s mantra, which tells us “a life lived in fear is a life half lived” owes everything to David and Goliath. But with the Orphean myth, the screenwriters were looking to dig deeper, to find something much darker. “The Orphean myth is a romantic tragedy in its essence,” Pearce explains. “David and Goliath is more youthful, and it’s about saying that belief can conquer anything. But as you get older people get sick, they die, and life is about resilience and finding ways to embrace the hard things in life and move forward.”

That might sound antithetical to the all-singing, all-dancing nature of the movie musical, but the genre has been trying to tell devastating stories like Moulin Rouge! for decades. “Hollywood is rarely interested in buying and remaking stories with devastating endings as much as stage musicals are,” Duffy explains. (See: Les Misérables, Phantom of the Opera.)

This reluctance can be traced back to the classic era, during which there were rules about the ways a musical could end under the censorship laws of the Production Code. Simply put, they had to have a happy ending. (Which also led to a fair amount of bizarre deus ex machina to guarantee a nice, cheery final act).

But then in the 1960s the Code fades away, and Hollywood starts engaging with violence, sex and explicit trauma on-screen. “We have much more freedom in the contemporary era to have people die explicitly,” Duffy says. “And that’s why we keep returning to Moulin Rouge!: there’s the explicit negotiation of our entry into the fantasy world, and then we’re devastated, and the curtains close and we’re in reality again.”

“It’s one of the great 21st-century films. Baz Luhrmann is only good when figuring out how to make historical periods of excess into contemporary displays of grotesquerie, somehow turning great films (‘French Cancan’) or great literature (‘The Great Gatsby’) into tacky Technicolor vomit that somehow understands the underlying sorrow of the material better than any serious-minded adaptation.” —Jake

The red-curtain trilogy has a distinct set of rules: one, the viewer must know how the film ends from the start; two, the story must be set in a heightened world; and three, it must contain a device that keeps the audience awake at all times, whether that be ballroom dancing, scattershot Shakespearean dialogue, or pop songs.

“Part of the appeal of the artifice is that it gives the audience permission to say, ‘This isn’t real, you’re about to see a fantasy, and that’s okay,’” Duffy says. “The pleasure is the fantasy of it. The whole film is us seeing how Christian is imagining what happened—and the musical is the most extreme genre that allows such imagination.”

The point was never to temper the elaborate, hyper-aware fakeness of it all, but to really commit to it. Says Robbins, “Musicals are ultimately artificial and exclusively constructed. And that’s what Moulin Rouge! achieves and quite a lot of films don’t. It goes, ‘This is where the story is going, this is the energy, this will be played in the soundtrack.’ There’s a deliberate thought process there.”

Luhrmann recently said: “The way we made the movie is the way the movie is.” An under-explored aspect of Moulin Rouge! is how the whole affair, with its ‘Spectacular Spectacular’ musical-within-a-musical device, is an insider’s guide to the mechanics and politics of making ‘big art’. How money can control both the art (the dastardly Duke insisting on “his” ending), and the artists (Satine is never told she is dying, because she is the golden goose upon whose shoulders the success of the company rests; Christian is likewise left in the dark, because he is the scriptwriter who needs to finish writing the show. Both are wrung dry for their talents).

There are shades of Luhrmann in Zigler, the impresario juggling cast, crew, investors and opening dates (Moulin Rouge! was originally slated for December 2000). Christian and friends in playwriting mode are surely Pearce and Luhrmann themselves, searching for the most economical way to say “the hills are vital, intoning the descant”.

And, from the show-within-a-show rehearsals, to the bustle of the backstage, to the gun-chase through the wooden bones of the fly tower, the production details are Catherine Martin to the very last diamante. Nobody does daring bedazzlement quite like ‘CM’, Luhrmann’s fellow producer and life partner. Electricity was the new, exciting thing in Paris at the turn of the twentieth century and this film was lit.

A necklace worn by Satine as a gift from the Duke was made of real diamonds and platinum. Designed by Stefano Canturi, It was the most expensive piece of jewellery ever specifically made for a film, with 1,308 diamonds weighing 134 carats, and worth an estimated one million dollars. Needless to say, Martin won both costume and production design Oscars for the film.

Also among the film’s eight Academy Award nominees: editor Jill Bilcock, about whose singular craft there is a recent documentary. Her breathless, kaleidoscopic cutting (also deployed in Strictly Ballroom and Romeo + Juliet) dropped us right on the dance floor; one 65-second sequence contained a boggling 85 cuts. And this is on the back of her superbly judged opening, a scene that repeats itself as she places Christian at both the start of his love story, and its devastating aftermath—heartbroken, unshaven, self-medicating, reaching for the words to begin making sense of his loss.

“I wondered, for the first hour of this, how Baz Luhrmann had managed to balance such in-your-face stylistic audacity while maintaining a genuine feeling of care for the characters and their struggles—is it all down to Ewan McGregor’s wonderfully earnest face, or the way Nicole Kidman’s smouldering-temptress persona is worn down by one of the most charming cinematic uses of Elton John’s ‘Your Song’? But as the ‘Elephant Love Medley’ transformed into David Bowie’s ‘Heroes’, I stopped caring, I just swooned.” —Kat

If electricity was the thing that drove the kids wild in the 1900s, the internet was on everyone’s minds in 2001. We were just figuring out how to juggle tabs and text people. The real magic dust sprinkled throughout Moulin Rouge! is, obviously, the cacophonous soundtrack, which made sense to our collective, fragmented consciousness.

“No other musical of the modern era has so perfectly captured the sense of spinning an iPod wheel every 45 seconds to play something else,” writes Jake of the medley of songs by David Bowie, Fat Boy Slim, Nirvana, Police, Elton John, Rufus Wainwright, Madonna and many others.

Luhrmann and Pearce stopped at nothing to get every single track from every single artist they wanted. The journey took more than two years, and some bodies were left at the side of the road. “You constantly have to kill your darlings,” Pearce sighs. RIP to Rod Stewart’s ‘Tonight’s the Night’, The Rolling Stones’ ‘Under My Thumb’, Prince’s ‘Raspberry Beret’ and Fifth Dimension’s ‘Up, Up and Away’. (Hot air balloons were big in 2001.)

"We wanted the music to be modern, because we didn’t want it to feel like a fusty, crusty world,” says Pearce. “We wanted to find the universal modern parallels that have existed since time immemorial.” But it wasn’t just about finding the most popular songs at the time. “The structure had to be driven by the needs of the story,” the screenwriter explains. “The musicals on film that tend to fail are the ones where the music feels like a film clip. If it’s not serving the emotional needs of the story, you very quickly check out and it becomes boring. With good musical storytelling, it builds and builds to a point where you can’t do anything but express yourself through song.”

Has there ever been a more desperately romantic promise than when Christian starts telling Satine he doesn’t have much to give her, before nailing that one perfect high note to reassure her that his gift is his song? Why, yes: when the mirrored love stories of Christian and Satine, and of the penniless sitar player and the courtesan in ‘Spectacular Spectacular’, meet at their dramatic peak, with ‘Come What May’. (The film’s only original song, it had been submitted for the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack by writers David Baerwald and Kevin Gilbert.)

“Moulin Rouge! was successful because it was using songs from different ages and periods, appealing to different audiences with something they could have a connection to. So it wasn’t just boomers, not just millennial or Gen X,” says Sammartino. “Something like Rock of Ages, for example, was much more narrow in terms of the kind of music you needed to like.”

“This film is a dramatic bitch and I love her.” —Mulaney

‘Moulin Rouge!’ co-writer and director Baz Luhrmann.

There is a pattern to our most emphatic reviews for the film: they come from relatively young people, who mainly identify as women. It’s something critics anticipated back in 2001. The New York Times wrote, in a fairly ambivalent review, that “young audiences, especially girls, will feel as if they had found a movie that was calling them by name”. We don’t have time to fully dig into the antiquated notion that “low art” (the publication’s quippy headline for that review was “An Eyeful, an Earful, Anachronism”) is aimed specifically at women, but surely we have to ask the question twenty years on: does anyone still think this could possibly be true?

“You’re always writing for yourself, for the film you want to see,” says Pearce. “I like all kinds of different films and I think teenage girls do too.” And let’s remember, it was Harry Styles who said of the broad demographic of his fanbase back in 2017: “Teenage girls—they don’t lie. If they like you, they're there. They don’t act ‘too cool’. They like you, and they tell you.”

Robbins: “The rom-com has made the connection between song and emotional display about female pain. The Emma Thompson crying to Joni Mitchell kind of lineage has tempered musicals—people think that’s what Mamma Mia! is: women and mothers and daughters and feelings.” Dig a little deeper and you’ll find a lot of musical-related data suggesting a broader scope. “When I went to see Frozen on Broadway, kids of all genders were wearing Olaf costumes, much more than princess ones. That is not the narrative Disney would like. And when people gender musicals and think of the princesses franchises, they don’t look to the fact that The Lion King and Aladdin were more successful.”

There has been an undeniable effort to reel male audiences in to see 21st-century musicals. On Hugh Jackman’s welcome, flamboyant career pivot (surprising to anyone but Australians), Duffy says: “Casting Wolverine in Les Misérables and The Greatest Showman is very, ‘See, manly men can do it too!’” Let’s not forget that Ewan McGregor had gotten his big break as freewheeling heroin addict Mark Renton in Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting just six years prior to playing Christian.

Indeed, says Duffy, “more of my male friends have seen Moulin Rouge! than other musicals. The MTV tone might have been significant, and there was the ‘Lady Marmalade’ music video—the fact you have all these beautiful pop stars writhing around in corsets. And just having David Bowie on the soundtrack is like, ‘Okay, this isn’t just girl music.’ Pop music offers an easier way to move past the stigma of show tunes.”

Crucially, Robbins notes that all of this prejudice, and the effort to tear it down, is speaking to, and about, a very specific—cisgender, heterosexual—subsection of audiences. “I always wonder where the critics think the queer audiences are. I do wonder if there’s a cis-het vibe going on that has even more to do with it, reinforcing that norm rather than actually focusing on young girls as an audience.”

I asked my interviewees whether they thought, twenty years on, that Moulin Rouge! would be better received today—and which parts of our contemporary cinematic and musical fabric owe a debt to Luhrmann’s jukebox wonder. “We’re more receptive but we have specific demands,” says Robbins. “And today’s musicals sink or swim on whether they meet those demands. So The Greatest Showman is the Moulin Rouge! of now. I think people would be lying if they didn’t say that the cinematography in Moulin Rouge! hasn’t affected almost every movie musical that has been made since. We wouldn’t have ‘Rewrite the Stars’ if we didn’t have ‘Sparkling Diamonds’.”

Duffy agrees: “So many things that come after you can draw a line directly to Moulin Rouge!—Pitch Perfect, Rock of Ages, Happy Feet… but most significantly, Glee would not exist without this movie. The jukebox musicals of the 21st century owe everything to Moulin Rouge! and the blueprint it lays down.”

Among the films that premiered at Cannes in 2001—David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive, Michael Haneke’s The Piano Teacher—was another kooky little number: Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson’s animated Shrek. Two jukebox musicals in the same prestige film festival, at a moment when the genre was considered deeply uncool? What a time to be alive!

If the last eighteen months have taught us anything, it’s that we film lovers enjoy nothing more than a comfort rewatch of our favorites. Moulin Rouge! and Shrek (and French Shrek) delivered untold comfort in the pandemic—but they had also soothed us much earlier, in the months following the unspeakable tragedy of the 9/11 attacks.

“For me it was very much a comfort film,” recalls Duffy, who had discovered Moulin Rouge! as a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old, during her first year away from home, studying in New York. “Part of that was rooted in this really traumatic thing that had happened, and all of us wanting to escape into this fantasy world as much as possible.”

Luhrmann said, in his recent Australian interview, “I love to see people united and uplifted and exulted. It’s a privilege to be a part of helping people find that.” As life outside our homes resumes, Moulin Rouge! will very much be part of a return to exultant living. The live musical—interrupted by Covid—opens in Melbourne in August and on the West End and Broadway in the fall.

Pearce last saw the film on a large screen in a derelict warehouse in London, at Secret Cinema’s interactive, carnivalesque spectacular. “I have to say, I was really proud of the film,” the screenwriter says, finally letting himself speak fondly of his accomplishment well over an hour into our conversation.

“I mean, some people liked it back in the day, but you’re never really satisfied with your work. You just tend to see the things that could have been better. But seeing the love for the film was really, really emotional.”

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Craig Pearce is currently producing ‘Pistol’—a biopic miniseries on the Sex Pistols, directed by Danny Boyle—and his next film with Luhrmann is a biopic of Elvis Presley, with Austin Butler playing the king of rock and roll. Additional thanks to Dr. Eleonora Sammartino, Lisa Duffy and Dr. Hannah Robbins.

[cassiecasyl]

how the most dangerous thing is to love

prompts used:

Suptober Day 22: I cursed the gloom that set upon us, but I know that I love you so Whumptober Day 7: I’ve got you + Alt 10: Nightmares Poem Prompt: “I would know him by touch alone, by smell. I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the Earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.” - "The Song of Achilles" by Madeline Miller

warnings: temporary character death title take from Achilles, Come Down by Gangs Of Youth

Read on Ao3.

✯

in death is where we met so death can’t do us part you were damned in debt way down hell’s town at the start

but in touch we were found corrupted & lost, fallen in love heavenly cursed & profoundly bound angelic faith & human weakness, twelve years of star-crossed allegiance 

✯

“Kill him, Castiel,” Naomi’s as it echoed through his mind, joined then by Hannah’s, and it tasted like betrayal. The answer was a quick defiance, something he didn’t even have to think about. Never. 

“I will not hurt Dean Winchester,” he stated proudly, narrowing his eyes at the angel in front him. She sighed exasperatedly, disappointed like a parent in their child. Castiel blinked. Something seemed off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“I thought I’d fixed you,” she spouted, bashfully. It was the feeling of falling, Cas then realized, the fear and uncertainty he felt when he truly fell from heaven that he now experienced. Rejection. 

Pain snuck into his body, bruises and cuts were painted on him, one by one, by invisible hands. The scenery was broken and shifted to something else. Castiel was laying in an old church now, so different from the clinical whiteness of Naomi’s office. “I will cure you of your human weakness,” Ishim promised, so sure of himself that this was the right thing to do. 

“No,” he weakly defended, but it only earned laughs.

Ishim stepped away, revealing an equally beaten up Dean. Their eyes met, and next to fear was a promise. We’ll get out of this. It was something he admired humans for: their devoted belief that everything would turn out fine. It was even found in humans like Dean, who had been through apocalypse after apocalypse. It was humanity’s unstoppable determination. 

Ishim tsked and shook his head at their wordless conversation. Then, he walked forward and grabbed Dean’s by his hair. With one swift motion, his blade slit Dean’s throat open, and Castiel felt like he was pulled away, down under, into hell. His hope was bleeding out, dying, and he had to return where he did not belong to. Not anymore. 

With a startled gasp, he awoke. Warm arms stalked around him, pulling him into a hug. “Nightmare?” Dean asked, wide awake yet sleep in his voice. Castiel only nodded, searching and listening for the hunter’s steady heartbeat. It was the soundtrack that would calm him down. Dean was safe and alive, defying every threat thrown at them, always. Castiel had to believe that. 

The dream’s imagery faded, leaving only dull hurt in the angel’s gut. It was okay, though. Hearing the constant thumping of Dean’s heart, he could breathe. Its cold was defeated by the hunter’s body heat, into which Castiel readily melted. Here and now, he wasn’t Eurydice anymore, who looked at her lover's face in her doom, as his dream had suggested. He wasn’t Romeo anymore either, finding his love dead. Here, Castiel was safe. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Dean asked, suppressing a yawn. Castiel hummed, looking for the words in the fields of his mind, and if they wanted to come. 

“You are not a mistake,” he simply said, leaving Dean to his own assumptions. It was the only thing the doubt had infected, that hadn’t been washed away by warm cuddles yet. It was dark in the room, but their shared body heat underneath the blanket was all Cas needed to feel content. 

The memories still echoed through his mind, riddled with ideology he once assigned to. Dean could be a liability, Cas could agree to that, but he was more than willing to take that chance. In their eyes though, he was corruption, causing a respected angel to step out of line. It was rebellion, betrayal, and above all, human. 

Castiel smiled into Dean’s chest, pulling him closer. Here was where he belonged, it was plain as day to see. Heaven mourned the loss of a soldier, and the staging of their grand play, but Castiel would never dare to regret his decision. He felt the power their love brought, even underneath the disguise they tried to put it into. After all, if it truly was weakness, what had they to fear?

Tag List: @luciferstempest @nightmare-in-plaid @starrynightdeancas @gnbrules @aniridescentdreamer

[joyfulsongbird]

Hannah-joy ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖 I request Hermes headcanons if you are looking for something to do :)

my FAVORITE wing man!! ofc!!

- he didnt want to take Orpheus in at first, but then the kid looked at him in the eyes…. and he couldn’t give him away

- he wasn’t ready to be a father, but got help from the whole town when they realized that that hurricane of a kid was going to tear that poor man apart

- people babysat when Orpheus was too young to stay at the bar, the whole town practically raised him

- he was, however, a great father. he introduced Orpheus to music, he taught him to be kind, to treat everyone with respect.

- he’s very good at judging Orpheus’ emotions, when he’s trying to conceal his sadness (he’s not very good at it anyways) he can immediately see what’s wrong.

- and when Orpheus saw Eurydice,, he just knew. knew that his boy was long gone for the girl.

- he figured out that he can judge Eurydice’s emotions amazingly well too, they’ve had many a conversation about her life before meeting Orpheus, about her instincts to run away. she’s come to him in her fear of running, fear that she’ll abandon everyone. he’s calmed her down on multiple occasions.

- he’s a caring person but a stricter exterior, he knows the rules and knows how to enforce them, but also knows how to be soft about them when needed

Hope these fulfill! thank you sm for sending this in!!!

[lady-adventuress]

Books I Read in 2017

Alphabetical list here, reviews under the cut in chronological order:

Almond, David: A Song for Ella Gray

Bardugo, Leigh: The Grisha Trilogy, Six of Crows, Crooked Kingdom

Cline, Ernest: Ready Player One

Cloonan, Becky, Brendan Fletcher, and Karl Kerschl: Gotham Academy Vol. 1-2

Cluess, Jessica: A Shadow Bright and Burning

Coulthurt, Audrey: Of Fire and Stars

del Duca, Leila and Kit Seaton: Afar

Dragoon, Leigh and Jessie Sheron: Ever After High: Class of Classics

Flores, Chynna Clugston, et al.: Lumberjanes/Gotham Academy

Gaiman, Neil: American Gods

Gaiman, Neil and Chris Riddell: The Sleeper and the Spindle

George, Madeleine: The Difference Between You and Me

Gilmour, H.B. and Randi Reisfeld: T*Witches #1-10

Hale, Shannon: Princess Academy: The Forgotten Sisters, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl: Squirrel Meets World

Hicks, Faith Erin: The Nameless City, The Stone Heart

Jensen, Michael and David Powers King: Woven

LaCour, Nina: We Are Okay

Larson, Hope: Chiggers, Mercury

Lubar, David: Sophomores and Other Oxymorons

Riordan, Rick: The Trials of Apollo #1-2, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard #2-3

Shea, Lisa: Ever After High: Once Upon a Twist: Cerise and the Beast

Stewart, Cameron, Brendan Fletcher, and Babs Tarr: Batgirl Vol. 1

Stoker, Bram: Dracula

Sugiura, Misa: It’s Not Like It’s a Secret

Turtschaninoff, Maria: Maresi

Weir, Andy: The Martian

West, Hannah: Kingdom of Ash and Briars

I also listened to a lot of audiobooks as I was working this year, but since I have terrible audio comprehension, I stuck to books I’ve already read and know I like:

From Tamora Pierce, Alanna: The First Adventure and the Trickster series, read by Trini Alvarado. The Protector of the Small series, read by Bernadette Dunne. The Immortals Quartet, Sandry’s Book, and The Will of the Empress, Full Cast Audio narrated by Tamora Pierce. All of them were good, but I especially loved hearing the Trickster series and all of the Full Cast books. I absolutely recommend them. Immortals was my favorite.

From Eoin Colfer, the Artemis Fowl series, read by Nathaniel Parker. I liked it a lot. It’s nice being able to hear the accents and remember that Artemis is actually Irish.

T*Witches #1-10, by H.B. Gilmour and Randi Reisfeld. Twin witches who were separated at birth meet at age fourteen and must learn magic to protect themselves from their evil uncle. This is a series from my childhood that still holds up in a cheesy nostalgic way. I always found the attempt at teen slang baffling, but at its core the story is still about family and girls supporting each other and trying to do the right thing. Excellent and complicated relationships between both biological and adopted families, excellent and complicated supporting characters.

Dracula, by Bram Stoker. An ancient vampire brings death and evil to England while a group of mostly-bumbling protagonists try to stop him. It’s hard to read a book like this without being influenced by the cultural interpretation, but one thing that really threw me off is the importance of characters that seem to get really downplayed in adaptations. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed the book, but I did enjoy how ridiculous parts of it was.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl: Squirrel Meets World, by Shannon Hale and Dean Hale. A fourteen-year-old girl tries to make new friends while keeping her squirrel tail and superpowers a secret. I love Shannon Hale’s children’s books. Squirrel Girl had the charm of her Ever After High work, surprisingly without being as over-the-top. Doreen isn’t the type of protagonist I tend to relate to and I always get a little weirded out with anthropomorphized animals, but the book was fun and funny with distinct voices and an appropriate amount of camp. Also, footnotes.

The Difference Between You and Me, by Madeleine George. The closeted popular girl and school outcast are on opposite sides of school politics, which causes problems in their secret relationship. I feel like there are tons of fanfictions like this, so I was glad when this book didn’t run into the overused tropes. Unfortunately, it didn’t really have much in the way of conflict at all, which was surprising when it seemed like every single character’s opinions were meant to be deliberately polarizing. I thought that situations and characters were set up really well, but none of it really came together in a satisfying way.

Chiggers, by Hope Larson. Graphic novel. A girl navigates summer camp drama and befriends the girl no one else likes. I’ve heard a lot of good things about Hope Larson, but I couldn’t like this book even though I was trying to. It felt like nothing was happening for most of the story, and I’m not sure what was accomplished in telling it. The elements of magical realism were interesting, but it wasn’t enough to carry the story, and neither was the mundane drama. There wasn’t enough time to invest in the characters.

Mercury, by Hope Larson. Graphic novel. A girl’s experience with a mysterious gold prospector affects the life of her modern-day descendant. The story was thought-provoking, even if it took me a while to get into it, and the magical realism was well-integrated. I don’t love Larson’s cartooning style, but I thought it was much more readable than Chiggers without sacrificing its uniqueness.

The Nameless City, by Faith Erin Hicks. Graphic novel. A boy befriends a native girl in the city his people conquered. Hicks’ visual storytelling skills are excellent, and I love how her characters and expression can be both subtle and cartoony. The story was thoughtful and deals with political realities in a way that doesn’t demonize or alienate anyone. Jordie Bellaire’s color palettes are beautiful.

Unfortunately, the sequel The Stone Heart doesn’t quite live up to the first book. The art is still excellent, but the pacing and plot seemed less well-planned, especially since the story now seems to be heading in a more predictable direction. There’s a third book forthcoming, so maybe that opinion will change.

Batgirl Vol. 1: Batgirl of Burnside, by Cameron Stewart, Brendan Fletcher, and Babs Tarr. Trade paperback. A college student tries to reinvent her vigilante identity while dealing with being the personal target of a mysterious villain. This was definitely not a bad book, but it also didn’t feel like a Barbara Gordon book. If you’re writing for characters with decades of history, that legacy deserves to be respected, and I’m not sure Stewart and Fletcher accomplished that in the writing. Separate from preconceptions, the plot was solidly set up with good dialogue and distinct characterization, although I thought Barbara’s arc had a weak resolution. Tarr’s art is great, though, and I can definitely see why this series is so popular.

Gotham Academy Vol. 1-2, by Becky Cloonan, Brendan Fletcher, and Karl Kerschl. Trade paperbacks. A girl investigates a haunting at her school, which is connected to a mysterious summer experience she can’t remember. Kerschl’s character acting is excellent, and the relationship between the protagonist Olive and her ex-boyfriend’s sister Maps is immediately compelling. The cast is well-rounded and interesting, and I enjoyed reading a comic set in a superhero world without being a superhero book. Plot elements are set up from the first issue, and the story is a lot of fun overall.

A Song for Ella Grey, by David Almond. A modern version of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth is told from the perspective of Eurydice’s best friend. Almond is an excellent writer, but I felt like this was a story that didn’t need to be retold, especially with his addition of a tragic unrequited queer romance. The protagonist doesn’t have any agency within the storyline so it felt like a series of events happening in sequence rather than a narrative. I did think the formatting shift at the turning point was interesting, but the myth dragged unnecessarily in order to fill the length of the novel.

The Trials of Apollo #1: The Hidden Oracle, by Rick Riordan. The Greek god Apollo is sent to earth as a teenager as punishment for his arrogance and is bound to the service of a young girl. It’s hard to enter into the Trials of Apollo series without prior knowledge of Percy Jackson and the Olympians or Heroes of Olympus, and even as a fan of the other books in the universe, I had a hard time engaging with Apollo as a protagonist. The narration fit the character well, though, and Riordan deals with serious subjects without resolving anything prematurely. I liked that each chapter was introduced with a haiku rather than a title.

The second book in the series, The Dark Prophecy, is similar in tone to the first. I would say the biggest change is the addition of Leo and Calypso from the prequel series to finish off the classic trio of heroes. That dynamic was interesting, and I also really enjoyed the appearance of my favorite Percy Jackson character.

We Are Okay, by Nina LaCour. A girl deals with grief over her grandfather’s death and reconnects with her best friend during winter break of her first year of college. It was a slow start and I had some trouble keeping up with shifts in the narration, but I ended up liking this book a lot. The writing is atmospheric and captures the protagonist’s thoughts well. The setup for the mystery is subtle and doesn’t take focus from the characters.

American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. After three years in jail and his wife’s death, a man takes a job that involves him in a war between old and new gods. I really like Gaiman’s writing, and Shadow is a protagonist that is engaging despite his relative passiveness. Even so, I wouldn’t say this was a book I actually enjoyed all that much, and plot twists were well-developed to the point that they weren’t particularly surprising or satisfying. I’ve seen a lot of stories modernize gods, so Gaiman’s treatment didn’t seem as unique as I’d been led to believe. That being said, maybe I would have enjoyed this more if I’d read it earlier.

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard: The Hammer of Thor, by Rick Riordan. A teenager resurrected as a Viking warrior goes on a quest to retrieve Thor’s hammer. This series in particular seems to depend on pop culture references, so while I liked the writing, I wonder if it will stay as relevant as Riordan’s other books. I did really enjoy the cast and the expansion of their backstories, and this book sets up what seems to be more of a crossover with the Percy Jackson series.

Book three, The Ship of the Dead, was also really fun. The closing of The Hammer of Thor was a little misleading in that the crossover elements were limited to the beginning and end of the story as usual, but by this time the characters are more than capable of standing on their own. It seems like this book is the last of the series, and it managed to close out the plot pretty well.

Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom, by Leigh Bardugo. Six teenagers are hired to break a political prisoner out of a foreign country. Not only is this an excellent heist story with a really detailed plot, but each of the characters are fully developed and they all have their own arcs throughout the books. Bardugo’s cast is inclusive and intersectional without feeling like she’s checking off a list and the writing is witty with clear voices. Both the characters and plot drive the story. I can’t say enough good things about this duology.

The Grisha Trilogy, by Leigh Bardugo. A teenage soldier discovers an elemental power and becomes part of a plan to overthrow a corrupt monarchy. This trilogy takes place before Bardugo’s Six of Crows books, but it was disappointing in comparison. I really disliked the protagonist, and there was a lot of focus on a frustrating romance, to the point that it overshadows the interesting worldbuilding. The plot dragged in places, despite being too thin to fill three books. Even so, there are a few really great supporting characters that almost made it worth it.

Sophomores and Other Oxymorons, by David Lubar. After a successful freshman year, a teenager’s overconfidence causes problems at his high school. This is the belated sequel to Sleeping Freshman Never Lie, which is one of my favorite books. Sophomores seems more self-referential and has a subplot that doesn’t seem to fit the tone as well, but for the most part it had the same witty charm that I loved about the first book. Of course, the best part of the series is still Lee, the female lead.

Maresi, by Maria Turtschaninoff. An abbey novice discovers her calling when a new girl with a troubled past arrives. This book was originally published in Finnish, I believe, but I think it must have lost something in the translation. The narration is distant, and even though parts of the world are described, it was hard to picture any of the setting. Overall it didn’t really hold my interest.

Kingdom of Ash and Briars, by Hannah West. After gaining magic powers and immortality, a girl becomes responsible for ensuring peace throughout three kingdoms. I really didn’t like this book. It treats the female characters poorly, especially the antagonist, and although the plot is ostensibly about duty, it’s heavy-handed, relies too much on tropes, and is really obviously motivated by romance. A lot of this can be overlooked if it’s ironic or just done well, but it never came together and ended up being very frustrating.

Of Fire and Stars, by Audrey Coulthurst. As she enters an arranged marriage, a princess has to hide her magic and her attraction to the prince’s sister. Even though the two protagonists are supposed to have equal weight, I ended up almost actively disliking one of them. The plot isn’t terribly engaging, but because I couldn’t get behind one of the characters, the romance couldn’t carry the novel for me. It wasn’t bad, but I wish it was better.

Princess Academy: The Forgotten Sisters, by Shannon Hale. A commoner-turned-princess takes an unattractive job to teach court manners to three royal sisters. This book is the third in Hale’s Princess Academy series and it is just as excellent as the first two. The plot is set up well across multiple books, and Miri is an excellent and flawed protagonist who is capable without overshadowing the other characters. The romantic plots don’t feel forced and the narration accomplishes a lot of interesting worldbuilding. Another book with girls supporting one another despite not necessarily understanding each other.

The Martian, by Andy Weir. An astronaut is stranded on Mars after an early mission evacuation and must survive until he can be rescued. I was skeptical about the premise, but everything is well thought out and clearly explained, without sacrificing either reader engagement or scientific accuracy. The protagonist has a great voice, but as soon as the perspective shifts away from his first-person mission logs, it’s easy to tell that Weir isn’t a very experienced writer, since the other characters and third-person narration are not nearly as well-defined. Overall, though, it was still a good book.

Ready Player One, by Ernest Cline. A high-schooler who is desperate to escape a dystopian future dedicates his life to solving a virtual reality puzzle and becoming the heir to a video game empire. There were two things that I really disliked about this book, the first being the protagonist, who seemed like a terrible person for most of the book. The second is that, despite being ostensibly a celebration of pop culture (and especially 80s pop culture), the overall viewpoint seemed really rigid and judgemental. The writing was fine, and there were some really interesting puzzles, but in the end I felt like it was male nerd entitlement in novel form.

Ever After High: Once Upon a Twist: Cerise and the Beast, by Lisa Shea. The daughter of Red Riding Hood and the son of King Charming are forced into the roles of Beauty and the Beast in order to escape their midterm exam. Cerise and Dexter seem like an odd pair, which sometimes works in the Ever After High universe, but didn’t really here. Part of this I think is because this book is written for an even younger audience than the original so the characters lost a lot of their nuance. The only part of the story that surprised me was almost immediately negated by a soap opera-worthy plot device to prevent the status quo from changing.

Afar, by Leila del Duca and Kit Seaton. Graphic novel. A girl tries to fix problems caused by her newfound ability to project herself into different worlds, while keeping her younger brother out of trouble. There is a lot of visual worldbuilding here, which I thought was very well done. Plot wise, it felt like the protagonist’s arc was maybe just the first act of a much longer book, but the characters were solid all around.

Lumberjanes/Gotham Academy, by Chynna Clugston Flores, Rosemary Velero-O’Connell, Kelly Matthews, and Nichole Matthews. Graphic novel. The ensemble casts of Lumberjanes and Gotham Academy work together to free their teachers from a girl’s attempt to relive a disastrous birthday. I think this book is set up more for fans of both series, and since I’ve only read a little of Lumberjanes, I felt like I was playing catch-up for some parts. I did really like the parts that showcased the Gotham Academy characters, though. I felt like the art was missing the lushness and texture of what I remember of the regular series, which was disappointing.

Ever After High: The Class of Classics, by Leigh Dragoon and Jessi Sheron. Graphic novel. The children of popular fairy tales learn more about their parents by using magic to relive parts of their high school experience. This book was very disappointing compared to other parts of the franchise. The art is minimal and flat compared to the webseries, and all but one of the anthology-esque stories felt like retreading old ground. I also really disliked the narrative hoops the audience was expected to jump through just to keep anything significant from changing.

It’s Not Like It’s a Secret, by Misa Sugiura. After moving from Wisconsin to California, a Japanese-American girl struggles to build a life she is happy with while keeping secrets that could ruin her family. This book was a bit surreal to read because specific parts of it were identical to my high school experience, while other parts were completely foreign. Still, the writing is solid and thought-provoking, and I liked that there is no easy answer to the protagonist’s problems.

A Shadow Bright and Burning, by Jessica Cluess. A newly-discovered sorceress takes on the role of a prophecized savior in a fight against enormous apocalyptic monsters. I found it a little difficult to get into the characters, especially since there is only one girl in a large group of boys and the gender difference is a large part of their interactions. I disliked the romantic subplots, which seemed to take over the narrative, even though the worldbuilding and political aspects of the plot were really interesting.

The Sleeper and the Spindle, by Neil Gaiman and Chris Riddell. A queen postpones her wedding to deal with the sleeping curse that threatens to spread from the kingdom next door. The story begins as a mix of archetypes from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, but Gaiman’s atmospheric writing elevate it even before the surprising finale. Riddell’s illustrations and other visual choices for the physical book are beautiful and tell the story meaningfully. Highly recommended.

Woven, by Michael Jensen and David Powers King. After his murder, an aspiring knight goes on a quest with a spoiled princess to stop the universe from unraveling. This book had an interesting premise, but its execution filled me with rage. Although it pretends to have dual protagonists, the princess is treated horribly by the narration without any kind of self-awareness. She is given a thin veneer of fighting ability but no agency in the story and is constantly being rescued without payoff. The writing and pacing also seemed flat. Overall extremely frustrating, especially because of the hints of interest.

[theatredirectors]

Hannah Ryan

Hometown?

Irwin, Ohio. One stop sign and a post office. That's it. I grew up on a 500-acre 5th-generation family farm with the original train depot from the unincorporated community of Irwin on the property.  We grew and harvested corn and soy beans. We had farm animals on the side mostly for my brothers and I to enjoy raising, learning responsibility, hard work, and care at a young age.

Where are you now?

Beautiful Brooklyn, NY. I've been bi-coastal this year working on the Broadway production and the first US Tour of Hamilton. For the past five months, my time has been split between NYC and San Francisco and now LA.

What's your current project?

Hamilton and about a dozen different new musicals, plays, and installation pieces, all of which are in various phases of development. I am currently in the rehearsal process for a 29 hour reading of the new musical All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go with writers Catherine Filloux, Jimmy Roberts and John Daggett. I spent last weekend in Miami presenting Ascended with collaborator Chaz Mena at the Arsht Center, Zoetic Stage. I'm also in the process of further developing a couple different fine art meets narrative meets performance art pieces with my creative collective Nettleworks. We explore themes of modern womanhood, native landscapes, and the telling of untold stories, specifically those about female identity and choice.

Why and how did you get into theatre?

It all began when I was one week old. I was born on December 13 and immediately cast to play the role of baby Jesus for the local Christmas nativity.

Theatre remained a central part of my life from that week on. I suppose it's in my bones, how I’ve always express myself.  As soon as I learned to read I was acting out books for the goats and sheep on my farm or directing Ryan family living room productions with all my cousins.  I was especially obsessed with making music videos. I guess in that way MTV, VH1 (well really televisions and film in general) had a huge impact on my early aesthetic and mode of story telling. I didn't have the opportunity to see Broadway shows as child. I would rent whatever film version musicals existed from my local library. That's how I was introduced to the musical theatre genre through film classics like The Sound of Music, Calamity Jane and The Music Man.

When it came time to decide on a major for college I was torn between something that I thought offered more stability and that my parents were pushing me toward (like Nursing), a degree in Fine Arts (I had a talent for painting), and Theatre. I spent my freshman year dabbling in all three areas of study. I found the collaborative nature of theatre to be so fitting for me. I loved the shades of gray, the room for interpretation, and the opportunity to communicate with others during every phase of the process.

I then studied abroad in London my junior year. Up to that point I was sure I was going to be an actor though I was always thinking like a director. (I'm sure I drove my directors crazy.) In London we would read plays for class, discuss those plays by day and then by night see the finest productions of those plays. I saw on average 4 shows a week for four months straight. There were three productions in particular that had a lasting effect on me for one common reason - they there were all directed by fierce, bad-ass women. Katie Mitchell's The Seagull, Marianne Elliot's Teresa Raquin and Emma Rice's Cymbeline.  I was forever changed and during that semester I shifted my focus from acting to directing. I hit the ground running and to this day haven’t once looked back.    

What is your directing dream project?

Sarah Ruhl’s Eurydice. Truth be told, anything Sarah Ruhl. My Shakespeare dreams: A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Hamlet. Ultimately and truthfully, seeing the pieces I’ve been developing through to their fully realized potential. Seeing them on a stage in the form my collaborators and I have been envisioning would put a smile on my face. That is the daily dream that keeps me motivated.

What kind of theatre excites you?

New musicals that push boundaries in structure, style, theme, and form. Immersive theatre that provides its audience the opportunity to feel unexpectedly, understand through individual exploration and imagine in ways they didn't know possible. I’m a visual learner and a major inspiration for me growing up were museums and living history expositions, in particular, old towns such as Colonial Williamsburg and Greenfield Village. I dream of creating pieces that audiences can live in, in which they use their every sense, that takes them on a journey and provokes a childlike sense of wonder. I get excited about theatre that can be fully experienced.

What do you want to change about theatre today?

We need to reach younger, more diverse audiences, making theatre cheaper and more accessible for all people as well as more internships, fellowships, development opportunities and ultimately jobs for females and other underrepresented groups. I want to see more of our stories being told not just on the stages of Broadway but around the country regionally as well through new development.

What is your opinion on getting a directing MFA?

It’s all about the timing. There isn't one route to where you want to go. If the time is right for you then I say go for it. If it isn't, don't. I’ve been riding a wave post undergrad that hasn't let me off yet and I’m not in a hurry to jump. When I am I may revisit the grad school possibility, but I also might keep swimming until I find the next enticing wave. I think the choice is unique for the individual and shouldn’t be made as the “next right step.”

Who are your theatrical heroes?

My collaborators. Choreographers because they tell stories through movement in a way I deeply love and appreciate but cannot create myself. Writers because they hear individual characters, live with them in their heads and then share them with the world. Actors because they work tirelessly and trust boundlessly. They embrace the beauty and challenge that lies in repetition, in my opinion, the ultimate task of the living theatre.

Any advice for directors just starting out?

Work hard, really really really hard, and be nice to everyone. Oh, and stage managers make the best of friends.

Plugs!

You, Hannah Wolf, for creating this vertical space for all of us, young emerging directors, to tell our stories, share our inspirations, be heard and learn from one another. Thank you for taking the time.

[olympiansrpg1-blog]

BASICS

Name: Sebastien Park Age: 28 Affiliation: Titans Occupation: Hitman Faceclaim: Steven Yeun Status: TAKEN by Josie

THE STORY

They call you Leto. You’ve never not known the smell of cigarettes, watching cartoons every morning with ten other kids and waiting for your turn to use the shower. On nights you couldn’t fall asleep, you’d catch fireflies and keep them in jars underneath your blankets, your own little paradise. You’ve always been a bright child, but it didn’t matter if you tried hard at school or if your painting was your teacher’s favorite. That’s how life unraveled before you - leaving your foster home when you turned eighteen, floating around, getting involved with the types of people those television commercials used to warn you about. But you were a quick learner, moving from place to place and steadily moving up the ladder, ultimately learning how to make people disappear. Atlas didn’t come to you - you found them, and they instantly knew they’d be missing out if they let you go. So here you are, Leto. Another home - though you secretly hope it’ll be the last stop you make.

CONNECTIONS

ORPHEUS - Falling into bed with Orpheus was never a big deal, one of the many ways to blow off steam after a particularly heated job. The problem is that you’ve gotten to know them better and you do see the good in them - what Eurydice saw in them. You never knew Eurydice so there’s really no guilt there; just bitterness that comes from knowing that Orpheus will never look at you the way they did their lost love.

ICARUS - You’d caught Icarus trying to steal your wallet when you were briefly distracted and you’d taken them to an alley and left Icarus with a nasty concussion and a bloody nose. You hadn’t quite realized then that the little street thief was involved with the Olympians, but it doesn’t really matter anyhow. They should be thankful that you left them alive, really. 

CHIMERA - When Chimera first became one of the Titans, they barely knew how to fight. Iapetus may have taught Chimera everything they knew, but Iapetus was never a fighter. Lucky for them, you were one of their best, and you trained Chimera, generously teaching them everything you knew. It makes you feel a bit proud, watching them grow, knowing that you helped them get there. 

SUGGESTED FACECLAIMS

Devon Aoki, Julia Jones, Hannah Simone, Michael Ealy, Steven Yeun, Chris Pine

PARA SAMPLE

(setting: NYC, approximately two months ago. trigger warning: death, guns, smoking)

The music that played over his headphones had a surprisingly happy feeling to it, considering the gun in the back of his pants, tucked away under a plain t-shirt. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, a hum vibrating in his throat. His face seemed impassive enough, just another person in the crowd, but his eyes continually drifted over a man several feet ahead of him. The man alternated between phone calls, texting, shouting at the people around him when he bumped into them while he wasn’t paying attention, and generally making a nuisance of himself. Sebastien wrinkled his nose a little, but to anyone else who might’ve noticed him they’d chalk it up to the hot dog cart he passed (a rather nasty one, if the flies buzzing around had anything to say about it).

The man had made the mistake of creeping into Tartarus a few nights ago, seeking information for Old Olympus. He wasn’t one of their usuals; and none of his people had recognized him. Good informants lasted, but that meant that regular ones continued to drop like flies. Sebastien had followed him over the course of the past few days, learning his routines, taking pictures of him and anyone he interacted with. He’d even followed him to Club Nyra last night, and Bastien had to laugh at the balls on this man. He was either stupid, or brave. Of course, the two words could easily be exchanged.

Sebastien pulled his phone out, casually scrolling through his music as he stepped into a bodega. The man had stopped here a few days ago, left with a pack of cigarettes and three packs of gum, but Bastien had noticed more cigarettes being smoked than gum being chewed in the past few days, and it was obviously a habit he was failing at kicking.

Shane Smith was such a dumb name that it had to be real, Bastien mused to himself as he threw up two bags of sour skittles onto the counter, and pointed out his own pack of cigarettes. It was easy to melt back into the crowd, this time with a sugar rush and the scent of smoke swirling in his nose. He hated the taste, but the scent was as comforting as the callouses on his fingers (gun or guitar?), as comforting as the purr of a cat. It reminded him of where he’d come from (practically nothing), mornings spent with JaimeandJames, Mikey, all the other siblings that had come through his life at different times.

Though when he’d exited, Shane Smith was nowhere in sight, it was easy to retrace steps the man had made before to find him again. And Shane Smith was definitely stupidly brave, Bastien thought, later, when he trailed the man back to Club Nyra. He wouldn’t go closer than five blocks off, but it was easy to see him walking back inside. Bastien shook his head, finishing off his second bag of skittles and tucking the trash into his pocket. He’d hate himself for it later when there was sour salt all in his jeans, but he needed to get out of sight because New Olympus would have lookouts, and while they weren’t the Titans, they seemed smarter than the old farts for sure. Bastien backtracked, blending in with people exiting a nearby bar until he spotted Shane again.

He hummed, quietly, and placed his earbuds back in.

This isn’t violence, this is just a war in my head / I give it time but it never seems to end

Bastien’s every step fell in beat with the song playing, his eyes tracking through alleys as he followed a path parallel to Shane’s. The man didn’t even think to zig zag, and that was a shame. He could’ve gotten away. And honestly, Bastien could’ve just let him go, with the line he was walking. Shane Smith would be dead in a few days if he wasn’t careful, double-crossing both Old and New Olympus and trying to dig into the Titans as well. Sebastien clicked his tongue, and a grin curled across his lips as he finally drifted behind Shane after following him for about thirty minutes, closer than he had been the entire past three days.

Shane’s body language shifted from the relaxed stance of a white man at night to that of someone who at least had a small care for their existence. Smarter than he looks, then. Bastien popped one earbud out, and whistled the beat of the song that had been playing from Club Nyra’s doors when Shane had walked in. His shoulders were lifting up around his ears, and he looked ready to bolt. Bastien chuckled a little, eyes casual as he scanned the streets around him. Shane was crossing into Titan territory without even thinking about it, as they walked further and further.

Sebastien’s legs stretched further, carrying him closer to Shane. He grinned a little wider when he caught Shane trying to casually glance over his shoulder, but the streetlights only just caught Sebastien here and there as he ducked around them. With no one else on their particular stretch of road, it was easy to herd Shane into a familiar dead end alley, and Bastien’s hands slid comfortably into his own back pockets. His stance was casual where he stood at the front of the alley, watching as Shane realized he had nowhere else to go. The streetlight behind him illuminated black hair but cast a glare over Sebastien’s face, and he grinned as Shane squinted a little.

“You’ve been fucking around lately, haven’t you Shane? Trying to be a rat in Titan territory when you can’t even decide where your loyalties actually lie? Money won’t save you when the people you’ve been double crossing find out. And they will. I imagine they’ve had their own eyes on you recently.” Sebastien grinned a little wider, stepping in closer and ducking his head. His face looked so incredibly friendly in that moment that he saw the indecision on Shane’s face, the moment where this man had to decide if he was a friend or a foe.

“Your only option is running, isn’t it?” Sebastien hummed, tucking his earbuds away in his pocket at last, head cocking to the side. “Oh, but they’d know. They’d know and they’d find you before you could get a hundred miles from here."

"W-Who are you?"

The first words out of Shane’s mouth, and that was what he thought to ask? Stupid. So fucking stupid.

"I’m here to give you some advice.” Bastien rocked back on his heels, his hands returning to his back pockets, thumb tracing along the gun at his back. “Running really is your only option, unless you wanna die.” Bastien clicked his tongue. “You’ll probably die regardless. Your own fault, really. You’re an idiot for thinking you could pull this off. Fingers in pies that are far too hot, y'know?” Bastien shrugged, eyes falling back to Shane’s face. “You need to disappear. Whether you die or not is up to you, I guess. How far you can go, how well you can hide, how fucking smart you are. I guess you can choose how you die too.” Bastien eased the gun out of his waistband, weighing it easily and holding it with the casual grace of someone who had killed numerous times before and accepted it.

“I can kill you here in this alleyway, Shane Smith, with your expensive watch and nice clothes, and everyone will just think it was a mugging gone sideways. You can go home, Shane Smith, and kill yourself, save everyone else the trouble. You can run, Shane Smith, and one of them can kill you if you aren’t careful enough.” His lips curled again, his smile just as friendly as before. Every time he said the man’s name, he could see him flinch, eyes growing more and more wild as his fear response kicked in.

Bastien clicked his tongue, lowering the gun and rolling his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m here to make you disappear. Been following you the past few days. They’ve undoubtedly seen me once or twice if they’ve got their own tails on you, so you’ll be in pretty hot water soon. But I’m the kind of guy that likes to give people a choice with these things, especially when it seems like they don’t have much of a choice at all. People always surprise you when they’re at their most afraid.” Bastien tilted his head, blinking slowly. “So what’s it gonna be?”

Shane Smith blathered on for exactly six minutes and fourteen seconds before he just broken down in tears. Sebastien cocked his head to the side and listened to him as he cried and then Shane begged him to just end it for him, to save everyone else the trouble. “I couldn’t get any info on your people anyway, it’s fine- Just kill me, no one could tie it back to you- They’ll torture me-” Bastien wrinkled his nose at that, blinked and shook his head and sighed.

“Disappointing, really.” He shrugged his shoulders, rocked on his heels again. “Was kind of hoping you’d come up with something better.” And then he grinned. “When you head home tonight, one of them will be waiting for you. Probably one of the old farts; Zeus is territorial after all, and an impatient fuck. They won’t make it pretty. It will hurt. Guess you’d better find a way out of town without going back there.”

Bastien put the gun away in his pants and turned away when he heard Shane’s scrambling steps, and it was back out in within a second, pressed to Shane’s chest as Bastien turned, brows furrowed a little. Shane’s eyes went wide all over again. Bastien wrinkled his nose, shaking his head.

“Fine.”

Two shots, a quick gloved sweep of the man’s body to steal his wallet, his watch, and his cufflinks, and a few heavy sighs later, Bastien had ducked into the shadows and vanished as people came pouring out to try and find the source of the noise. He dropped the stuff in a sewer, and exactly twenty-four minutes after he’d given Shane Smith the choice of his life, Bastien was heading back to his apartment where it was settled directly in Titan territory.

His phone was eased out of his pocket, and he groaned in disgust at the sour salt all over the screen. “Do this every fucking time I buy these,” he muttered, typing in his password before dialing a number he had memorized. He could’ve called the number with his hands tied behind his back, half-drugged, beaten nearly to death (and had, once before). There was a genuine smile on his face as a familiar voice came on, and it transformed him into something remnant to the friendly man who had greeted a stranger in an alley, except this was genuine. “Hey, Rich. Well, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news and as always the good news is fake because I didn’t actually save you any sour skittles this time but I did finally snatch up that rat that was crawling around my apartment, you know the one. Yeah, he’s not gonna be chewing up anymore important files, I promise. Nasty little thing though."

Bastien paused for a moment, listening, and hummed softly under his breath. "Yeah, I’m sure there’s a corner store I can find you some more skittles at, and I promise I won’t eat them before I see you again. And I will also pass your love on to my cats because as much as you complain about their fur I know you love them. Ah, gotta go, bye!” He ended the call quickly with a warm laugh, as bright as the sun. It was dark out, and the city was alive around him like it hadn’t been miles back. Bastien placed his headphones back in, smiling to himself, and he started to hum again.

We’ve waited so damn long, we’re sick and tired / I won’t leave any doubt or stone unturned / I’ve got a collar full of chemistry from your company / so maybe tonight I’ll be the libertine.

(A letter to Richard Johnson, found tucked away in a small box of Sebastien Park’s most treasured belongings. A few pieces of paper, well-creased, obviously read many times. There are scribbles on them, a few tear marks, even signs that they’ve been crumpled up before)

I watched this show once, where this lady’s therapist suggested she write letters to people and only send them if she felt comfortable with it, but she was supposed to be completely and brutally honest with them about how she was feeling. Expressing her emotions and all that jazz. You know I’m not one to hold shit back; it doesn’t do anything for anybody if I do. I’ve never lied to you, Rich, but there are some things I’ve kind of held back.

Germany was amazing. I never thought I’d get to travel like that; kids like me don’t end up jet setters after all, unless we marry rich or sell drugs which I guess I’ve kind of done for myself.

The day I approached you in New York, I’d been hearing whispers. Harvey Johnson’s son. Cronus’ son, back on American soil. You make an impression (there are a few words just barely discernible as 'for fucking sure’ here, but they’ve been scribbled out). You were mostly incognito, but I knew the right people and maybe I was feeling particularly stupid that day, particularly suicidal. So I found you and I sold myself like a piece of meat on the market because I wanted to make something of myself and the others (this word is underlined twice) always left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I was already doing illegal things; why not join a mobster and his would-be mob, yeah?

I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. I’m sorry we came back as an advancing war force instead of some sort of heroes. That’s one of the things I’ve always held back; I never knew my parents but I know some part of you loved your father. I’m sorry you lost him.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it to you, but my mom left me in Central Park a day after I was born. People slapped the last name ‘Park’ on me and that was that, y’know? I was a baby no one wanted and when they did want me, they didn’t want to keep me. I got passed to foster homes and my siblings got adopted and I kept getting left behind. You… You never left me behind, Rich. You looked at me and you saw that I was worth something more. You made me believe it, after all the times I’d tried to tell it to myself.

You gave me Germany. You gave me a family, people I’d die for and people that would die for me. Hades, Zeus, neither of those fucks care for their people the way you do, or even at all.

(The next three lines are crossed out so viciously that the pen stabbed through the page. Sebastien knows exactly what he wrote down that day, and he hates himself for putting the words to paper and releasing them into the world.)

So yeah. I guess I’ve said my piece. Don’t know if I’ll ever give you this letter, and honestly I’m considering tearing it into a million pieces now. Better to never let it see the light of day. I just have a few questions, and maybe I’ll ask you them myself someday. Maybe they, like this letter, will stay buried.

Why me? Why Leto?

Signed, Bastien

(setting: Sebastien’s apartment, late night, likely within the last few months)

Sebastien startled awake at the sensation of weight in his bed, blinking down at the bare shoulder next to him. A small smile curled at the corners of his lips, there and gone again as he looked down at Orpheus. He drew in a quick breath, shaking his head before throwing the blankets away from his legs. Orpheus didn’t stir as he slipped from his bedroom, and Bastien sat down on his couch while his hands dragged through his hair. He’d left his glasses here the night before, when he and Orpheus had stumbled in. Bastien left them sitting on the table, hands rubbing across his face.

He didn’t know what he was doing.

Bastien was an idiot, that was well known, at least when it came to things of an emotional nature. His time with Denise and Mikey seemed so far away now, the sensation of being loved almost foreign. But that wasn’t what this was. This was sex, plain and simple. There was nothing wrong with blowing off a little steam. It was like some sort of completely fucked team bonding.

The hitman groaned, sprawling out on his couch. It was getting harder, every time, to want to leave his bed when Orpheus was in it. He didn’t wake up as often anymore, at the sensation of someone else beside him. Orpheus was safe, their scent familiar. They didn’t always leave at first light now; sometimes they stayed and laughed with him in the kitchen as he made breakfast for them both.

A cat landed on his bare chest, and Sebastien hurriedly drew a blanket across his lap; he’d learned that the hard way. Nemo blinked mismatched eyes down at him slowly, and he returned the gesture before he rubbed behind her ears. “What am I doing, huh?” He asked her quietly, startling all over again when an actual voice answered.

“Talking to your cat when you could be in bed, from what I can tell.”

Sebastien sat up quickly, eyes sliding over to where Orpheus stood in the doorway to his bedroom. He hadn’t even heard the door opening, and that was /dangerous/. This was dangerous. They’d slid their pants from the night before back on, and their lips (lips he’d spent the night before kissing until they were swollen, the after effects still showing in the light of the streetlights from outside) sliding up into a smile.

“Should I go? Bad night?”

His first instinct was to say yes. Yes, get out of my house, get out of my life, stop creeping into my head. Then he thought no. No, this is nothing, it’s just sex and they don’t affect me like that.

Bastien smiled, nudging Nemo off of his chest so he could stand and make his way to where they stood. He leaned up, pressing a kiss to their still swollen lips.

Dangerous.

“Why don’t you come back in there with me and help me get back to sleep, huh?” His smile widened into a grin, and Orpheus laughed, tugging him towards the bed.

There was no Eurydice here. For a little while, Sebastien could pretend.

[dani-qrt]

Talk Is Good, Action Is Better

The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter reflecting the experience (and quirks) of our Australia bureau chief, a Yank who’s convinced he has the best job in journalism. Sign up to get it by email and forward it to friends if you get the urge.

______

Talk is good, action is better.

If there was one theme to emerge from our public discussions this week about race and politics in Australia and the United States, it was the idea that conversation must be a prelude to activity, not an end unto itself.

What might that action look like?

Let me tell you about Mark Nannup.

After our event Sunday at the National Gallery of Victoria, he introduced himself to me and Nikole Hannah-Jones, the investigative reporter (and MacArthur Genius Grant winner) from The New York Times Magazine who flew from Brooklyn for our discussion.

Mark told us he was one of only a few Aboriginal Australians studying at the Victorian College of the Arts and as a result, he was often asked about the darker shades of Australian history: the massacres that defined early settlement, the segregation and discriminatory policies that followed, and the challenges tied to that history that still shape his people today.

He eventually grew tired of playing the educator so often to so many. But rather than retreat, he came up with an innovative solution: He persuaded a cafe called 8 Miles to provide vouchers for free meals to anyone who checked out a book from the university’s Indigenous Arts and Culture department.

“It’s an incentive to see who really cares and wants to learn,” he said. It was just a small thing, he added. An acting student with piercing eyes, he wasn’t looking for attention and was a bit surprised when I asked for his name.

But Nikole and I were both impressed. Here was individual action and creativity, deployed quietly for good.

Mark’s coffee plan was also a reminder that the responsibility for education should fall more heavily on those who need it most. As Nikole put it at our events Sunday in Melbourne and Monday in Sydney, black and brown people consider and discuss race all the time; they’re not the ones who need more education and conversation — it’s the rest of us who could invest more in the subject.

A good place to start would be the “Colony Frontier Wars” exhibit at the NGV. The works from Australia’s contemporary Indigenous artists, in particular, provide an informative, visceral experience of history and its everyday impacts.

The image above, for example, is part of a series shot by Michael Cook, a Bidjara man who has said his work reverses reality and highlights “the lack of Indigenous representation within Parliament, the judicial system and the business world.”

Here are two other images from the series, which is called “Majority Rule.”

This week especially, the need for more education and discussion on race and equality seems striking. In much of the world, compassion and understanding are in retreat.

The United States is in the throes of a debate about the morality of separating immigrant children from their parents. In Germany, Bavarian conservatives threatened to take down the government of Angela Merkel to close the border to immigrants, in violation of European Union rules, while here in Australia, there are signs of a collective retrenchment.

Earlier this week, Australia’s race discrimination commissioner, Tim Soutphommasane, sent out an email responding to calls for an end to his position, or at least a renaming to make his replacement a “community relations commissioner.”

Pointing out that 20 percent of Australians said last year that they had experienced discrimination during the previous 12 months, he argued, “You can’t fight racism if you can’t even name it.”

We also learned this week that anti-immigrant sentiment in Australia is on the rise. This year’s Lowy Institute poll, which I wrote about here, found that most Australians (54 percent, up 14 points from last year) think the rate of immigration to Australia is too high.

And it appears to be tied to concerns about culture: A significant minority (41 percent) now say that “if Australia is too open to people from all over the world, we risk losing our identity as a nation.” For comparison’s sake, when Americans were asked the same question, 29 percent agreed that national identity would be threatened by being too open to the world.

What’s interesting, though, is that in both countries, there is a clear generational divide on issues of race and immigration. Young people, those 45 and under, are far more likely to prefer openness and diversity.

They are also increasingly turned off by the way their elders run things; less than half of Australians aged 18 to 44 said they preferred democracy to other forms of government, compared with 76 percent support for democracy among those 45 and over.

Anyone want to share their take on why that might be the case? (I have a few theories.)

In the meantime, here are our stories of the week, happy and sad, serious and silly. As always, join our Facebook group for more discussion and let us know what you think by emailing us at nytaustralia@nytimes.com.

______

Not sure I can improve on the lede of this story, so I’ll just quote it:

“It was supposed to be the day when President Emmanuel Macron of France received a long-awaited response from Germany on his big ideas on how to rekindle Europe as a force for liberalism in the world.

And he did, sort of.

But his meeting with Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany on Tuesday was overshadowed by the urgent issue of how to put out the growing number of populist fires over migration on the Continent — including in Germany itself.”

______

I’m not much of a reader about fashion; just not my thing. But I did find this Styles piece about movies with the best clothes remarkably compelling.

It made me realize that many of us do notice style and wardrobe even if we don’t think we do.

______

Join our reporters for a drink in Russia at the restaurant La Punto.

It is, by their account, “a Sochi gastro pub recommended to fans on the World Cup website that just so happens to be in the same building that housed the notorious antidoping laboratory at the center of one of the most elaborate cheating schemes in sports history.”

______

We also published a Q&A with Mr. Parr, which included this memorable exchange:

Q. What do you think of the state of art in Australia?

A. “It’s moribund. A lot of snap, crackle and pop but nothing of any real substance.”

In other Australia news …

• Huawei, the Chinese telecom, is fighting off both American and Australian resistance to skepticism about its products in what looks to some like a global technology Cold War.

• We covered the vigils for Eurydice Dixon, exploring the anger and frustration many women feel at being told they are supposed to be responsible for their own safety rather than demanding that men change their violent behavior.

• Highlights and more details from the Lowy Institute Poll are here with an obvious headline: Australia’s Anxiety About World Affairs.

• Patricia Fox, an Australian nun who has lived in the Philippines for many years, won a reprieve from a move to deport her that had the vocal support of President Rodrigo Duterte.

• In Opinion, George Megalogenis asks: Can Australia rise above xenophobia and forge a path to inclusion?

• Peter Thomson, the Australian who won five British Opens and became the only player in the 20th century to win that major in three consecutive years, died on Wednesday in Melbourne. Here’s his well-deserved New York Times obituary.

• And in this week’s Australia Diary: An Aussie introduces Vegemite to a Texan. Hilarity ensues. Sort of. (Yes we had to do it.)

______

… And We Recommend

The World Cup, obviously. Cheer for the Socceroos, sure, but we’ll also be cheering for Mexico, our former home, with a team that knocked off Germany in its first match.

Few countries with so many wonderful people and such a rich culture have been more abused as of late, by both the American government and their own government, so if you get a chance, give a shout to El Tri, as the team is know. Viva México!

Damien Cave is the new Australia bureau chief for The New York Times. He’s covered more than a dozen countries for The Times, including Mexico, Cuba, Iraq and Lebanon. Follow him on Twitter: @damiencave.

The post Talk Is Good, Action Is Better appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2loMffy via Online News

[dragnews]

Talk Is Good, Action Is Better

The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter reflecting the experience (and quirks) of our Australia bureau chief, a Yank who’s convinced he has the best job in journalism. Sign up to get it by email and forward it to friends if you get the urge.

______

Talk is good, action is better.

If there was one theme to emerge from our public discussions this week about race and politics in Australia and the United States, it was the idea that conversation must be a prelude to activity, not an end unto itself.

What might that action look like?

Let me tell you about Mark Nannup.

After our event Sunday at the National Gallery of Victoria, he introduced himself to me and Nikole Hannah-Jones, the investigative reporter (and MacArthur Genius Grant winner) from The New York Times Magazine who flew from Brooklyn for our discussion.

Mark told us he was one of only a few Aboriginal Australians studying at the Victorian College of the Arts and as a result, he was often asked about the darker shades of Australian history: the massacres that defined early settlement, the segregation and discriminatory policies that followed, and the challenges tied to that history that still shape his people today.

He eventually grew tired of playing the educator so often to so many. But rather than retreat, he came up with an innovative solution: He persuaded a cafe called 8 Miles to provide vouchers for free meals to anyone who checked out a book from the university’s Indigenous Arts and Culture department.

“It’s an incentive to see who really cares and wants to learn,” he said. It was just a small thing, he added. An acting student with piercing eyes, he wasn’t looking for attention and was a bit surprised when I asked for his name.

But Nikole and I were both impressed. Here was individual action and creativity, deployed quietly for good.

Mark’s coffee plan was also a reminder that the responsibility for education should fall more heavily on those who need it most. As Nikole put it at our events Sunday in Melbourne and Monday in Sydney, black and brown people consider and discuss race all the time; they’re not the ones who need more education and conversation — it’s the rest of us who could invest more in the subject.

A good place to start would be the “Colony Frontier Wars” exhibit at the NGV. The works from Australia’s contemporary Indigenous artists, in particular, provide an informative, visceral experience of history and its everyday impacts.

The image above, for example, is part of a series shot by Michael Cook, a Bidjara man who has said his work reverses reality and highlights “the lack of Indigenous representation within Parliament, the judicial system and the business world.”

Here are two other images from the series, which is called “Majority Rule.”

This week especially, the need for more education and discussion on race and equality seems striking. In much of the world, compassion and understanding are in retreat.

The United States is in the throes of a debate about the morality of separating immigrant children from their parents. In Germany, Bavarian conservatives threatened to take down the government of Angela Merkel to close the border to immigrants, in violation of European Union rules, while here in Australia, there are signs of a collective retrenchment.

Earlier this week, Australia’s race discrimination commissioner, Tim Soutphommasane, sent out an email responding to calls for an end to his position, or at least a renaming to make his replacement a “community relations commissioner.”

Pointing out that 20 percent of Australians said last year that they had experienced discrimination during the previous 12 months, he argued, “You can’t fight racism if you can’t even name it.”

We also learned this week that anti-immigrant sentiment in Australia is on the rise. This year’s Lowy Institute poll, which I wrote about here, found that most Australians (54 percent, up 14 points from last year) think the rate of immigration to Australia is too high.

And it appears to be tied to concerns about culture: A significant minority (41 percent) now say that “if Australia is too open to people from all over the world, we risk losing our identity as a nation.” For comparison’s sake, when Americans were asked the same question, 29 percent agreed that national identity would be threatened by being too open to the world.

What’s interesting, though, is that in both countries, there is a clear generational divide on issues of race and immigration. Young people, those 45 and under, are far more likely to prefer openness and diversity.

They are also increasingly turned off by the way their elders run things; less than half of Australians aged 18 to 44 said they preferred democracy to other forms of government, compared with 76 percent support for democracy among those 45 and over.

Anyone want to share their take on why that might be the case? (I have a few theories.)

In the meantime, here are our stories of the week, happy and sad, serious and silly. As always, join our Facebook group for more discussion and let us know what you think by emailing us at nytaustralia@nytimes.com.

______

Not sure I can improve on the lede of this story, so I’ll just quote it:

“It was supposed to be the day when President Emmanuel Macron of France received a long-awaited response from Germany on his big ideas on how to rekindle Europe as a force for liberalism in the world.

And he did, sort of.

But his meeting with Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany on Tuesday was overshadowed by the urgent issue of how to put out the growing number of populist fires over migration on the Continent — including in Germany itself.”

______

I’m not much of a reader about fashion; just not my thing. But I did find this Styles piece about movies with the best clothes remarkably compelling.

It made me realize that many of us do notice style and wardrobe even if we don’t think we do.

______

Join our reporters for a drink in Russia at the restaurant La Punto.

It is, by their account, “a Sochi gastro pub recommended to fans on the World Cup website that just so happens to be in the same building that housed the notorious antidoping laboratory at the center of one of the most elaborate cheating schemes in sports history.”

______

We also published a Q&A with Mr. Parr, which included this memorable exchange:

Q. What do you think of the state of art in Australia?

A. “It’s moribund. A lot of snap, crackle and pop but nothing of any real substance.”

In other Australia news …

• Huawei, the Chinese telecom, is fighting off both American and Australian resistance to skepticism about its products in what looks to some like a global technology Cold War.

• We covered the vigils for Eurydice Dixon, exploring the anger and frustration many women feel at being told they are supposed to be responsible for their own safety rather than demanding that men change their violent behavior.

• Highlights and more details from the Lowy Institute Poll are here with an obvious headline: Australia’s Anxiety About World Affairs.

• Patricia Fox, an Australian nun who has lived in the Philippines for many years, won a reprieve from a move to deport her that had the vocal support of President Rodrigo Duterte.

• In Opinion, George Megalogenis asks: Can Australia rise above xenophobia and forge a path to inclusion?

• Peter Thomson, the Australian who won five British Opens and became the only player in the 20th century to win that major in three consecutive years, died on Wednesday in Melbourne. Here’s his well-deserved New York Times obituary.

• And in this week’s Australia Diary: An Aussie introduces Vegemite to a Texan. Hilarity ensues. Sort of. (Yes we had to do it.)

______

… And We Recommend

The World Cup, obviously. Cheer for the Socceroos, sure, but we’ll also be cheering for Mexico, our former home, with a team that knocked off Germany in its first match.

Few countries with so many wonderful people and such a rich culture have been more abused as of late, by both the American government and their own government, so if you get a chance, give a shout to El Tri, as the team is know. Viva México!

Damien Cave is the new Australia bureau chief for The New York Times. He’s covered more than a dozen countries for The Times, including Mexico, Cuba, Iraq and Lebanon. Follow him on Twitter: @damiencave.

The post Talk Is Good, Action Is Better appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2loMffy via Today News

[cleopatrarps]

Talk Is Good, Action Is Better

The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter reflecting the experience (and quirks) of our Australia bureau chief, a Yank who’s convinced he has the best job in journalism. Sign up to get it by email and forward it to friends if you get the urge.

______

Talk is good, action is better.

If there was one theme to emerge from our public discussions this week about race and politics in Australia and the United States, it was the idea that conversation must be a prelude to activity, not an end unto itself.

What might that action look like?

Let me tell you about Mark Nannup.

After our event Sunday at the National Gallery of Victoria, he introduced himself to me and Nikole Hannah-Jones, the investigative reporter (and MacArthur Genius Grant winner) from The New York Times Magazine who flew from Brooklyn for our discussion.

Mark told us he was one of only a few Aboriginal Australians studying at the Victorian College of the Arts and as a result, he was often asked about the darker shades of Australian history: the massacres that defined early settlement, the segregation and discriminatory policies that followed, and the challenges tied to that history that still shape his people today.

He eventually grew tired of playing the educator so often to so many. But rather than retreat, he came up with an innovative solution: He persuaded a cafe called 8 Miles to provide vouchers for free meals to anyone who checked out a book from the university’s Indigenous Arts and Culture department.

“It’s an incentive to see who really cares and wants to learn,” he said. It was just a small thing, he added. An acting student with piercing eyes, he wasn’t looking for attention and was a bit surprised when I asked for his name.

But Nikole and I were both impressed. Here was individual action and creativity, deployed quietly for good.

Mark’s coffee plan was also a reminder that the responsibility for education should fall more heavily on those who need it most. As Nikole put it at our events Sunday in Melbourne and Monday in Sydney, black and brown people consider and discuss race all the time; they’re not the ones who need more education and conversation — it’s the rest of us who could invest more in the subject.

A good place to start would be the “Colony Frontier Wars” exhibit at the NGV. The works from Australia’s contemporary Indigenous artists, in particular, provide an informative, visceral experience of history and its everyday impacts.

The image above, for example, is part of a series shot by Michael Cook, a Bidjara man who has said his work reverses reality and highlights “the lack of Indigenous representation within Parliament, the judicial system and the business world.”

Here are two other images from the series, which is called “Majority Rule.”

This week especially, the need for more education and discussion on race and equality seems striking. In much of the world, compassion and understanding are in retreat.

The United States is in the throes of a debate about the morality of separating immigrant children from their parents. In Germany, Bavarian conservatives threatened to take down the government of Angela Merkel to close the border to immigrants, in violation of European Union rules, while here in Australia, there are signs of a collective retrenchment.

Earlier this week, Australia’s race discrimination commissioner, Tim Soutphommasane, sent out an email responding to calls for an end to his position, or at least a renaming to make his replacement a “community relations commissioner.”

Pointing out that 20 percent of Australians said last year that they had experienced discrimination during the previous 12 months, he argued, “You can’t fight racism if you can’t even name it.”

We also learned this week that anti-immigrant sentiment in Australia is on the rise. This year’s Lowy Institute poll, which I wrote about here, found that most Australians (54 percent, up 14 points from last year) think the rate of immigration to Australia is too high.

And it appears to be tied to concerns about culture: A significant minority (41 percent) now say that “if Australia is too open to people from all over the world, we risk losing our identity as a nation.” For comparison’s sake, when Americans were asked the same question, 29 percent agreed that national identity would be threatened by being too open to the world.

What’s interesting, though, is that in both countries, there is a clear generational divide on issues of race and immigration. Young people, those 45 and under, are far more likely to prefer openness and diversity.

They are also increasingly turned off by the way their elders run things; less than half of Australians aged 18 to 44 said they preferred democracy to other forms of government, compared with 76 percent support for democracy among those 45 and over.

Anyone want to share their take on why that might be the case? (I have a few theories.)

In the meantime, here are our stories of the week, happy and sad, serious and silly. As always, join our Facebook group for more discussion and let us know what you think by emailing us at nytaustralia@nytimes.com.

______

Not sure I can improve on the lede of this story, so I’ll just quote it:

“It was supposed to be the day when President Emmanuel Macron of France received a long-awaited response from Germany on his big ideas on how to rekindle Europe as a force for liberalism in the world.

And he did, sort of.

But his meeting with Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany on Tuesday was overshadowed by the urgent issue of how to put out the growing number of populist fires over migration on the Continent — including in Germany itself.”

______

I’m not much of a reader about fashion; just not my thing. But I did find this Styles piece about movies with the best clothes remarkably compelling.

It made me realize that many of us do notice style and wardrobe even if we don’t think we do.

______

Join our reporters for a drink in Russia at the restaurant La Punto.

It is, by their account, “a Sochi gastro pub recommended to fans on the World Cup website that just so happens to be in the same building that housed the notorious antidoping laboratory at the center of one of the most elaborate cheating schemes in sports history.”

______

We also published a Q&A with Mr. Parr, which included this memorable exchange:

Q. What do you think of the state of art in Australia?

A. “It’s moribund. A lot of snap, crackle and pop but nothing of any real substance.”

In other Australia news …

• Huawei, the Chinese telecom, is fighting off both American and Australian resistance to skepticism about its products in what looks to some like a global technology Cold War.

• We covered the vigils for Eurydice Dixon, exploring the anger and frustration many women feel at being told they are supposed to be responsible for their own safety rather than demanding that men change their violent behavior.

• Highlights and more details from the Lowy Institute Poll are here with an obvious headline: Australia’s Anxiety About World Affairs.

• Patricia Fox, an Australian nun who has lived in the Philippines for many years, won a reprieve from a move to deport her that had the vocal support of President Rodrigo Duterte.

• In Opinion, George Megalogenis asks: Can Australia rise above xenophobia and forge a path to inclusion?

• Peter Thomson, the Australian who won five British Opens and became the only player in the 20th century to win that major in three consecutive years, died on Wednesday in Melbourne. Here’s his well-deserved New York Times obituary.

• And in this week’s Australia Diary: An Aussie introduces Vegemite to a Texan. Hilarity ensues. Sort of. (Yes we had to do it.)

______

… And We Recommend

The World Cup, obviously. Cheer for the Socceroos, sure, but we’ll also be cheering for Mexico, our former home, with a team that knocked off Germany in its first match.

Few countries with so many wonderful people and such a rich culture have been more abused as of late, by both the American government and their own government, so if you get a chance, give a shout to El Tri, as the team is know. Viva México!

Damien Cave is the new Australia bureau chief for The New York Times. He’s covered more than a dozen countries for The Times, including Mexico, Cuba, Iraq and Lebanon. Follow him on Twitter: @damiencave.

The post Talk Is Good, Action Is Better appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2loMffy via News of World

[party-hard-or-die]

Talk Is Good, Action Is Better

The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter reflecting the experience (and quirks) of our Australia bureau chief, a Yank who’s convinced he has the best job in journalism. Sign up to get it by email and forward it to friends if you get the urge.

______

Talk is good, action is better.

If there was one theme to emerge from our public discussions this week about race and politics in Australia and the United States, it was the idea that conversation must be a prelude to activity, not an end unto itself.

What might that action look like?

Let me tell you about Mark Nannup.

After our event Sunday at the National Gallery of Victoria, he introduced himself to me and Nikole Hannah-Jones, the investigative reporter (and MacArthur Genius Grant winner) from The New York Times Magazine who flew from Brooklyn for our discussion.

Mark told us he was one of only a few Aboriginal Australians studying at the Victorian College of the Arts and as a result, he was often asked about the darker shades of Australian history: the massacres that defined early settlement, the segregation and discriminatory policies that followed, and the challenges tied to that history that still shape his people today.

He eventually grew tired of playing the educator so often to so many. But rather than retreat, he came up with an innovative solution: He persuaded a cafe called 8 Miles to provide vouchers for free meals to anyone who checked out a book from the university’s Indigenous Arts and Culture department.

“It’s an incentive to see who really cares and wants to learn,” he said. It was just a small thing, he added. An acting student with piercing eyes, he wasn’t looking for attention and was a bit surprised when I asked for his name.

But Nikole and I were both impressed. Here was individual action and creativity, deployed quietly for good.

Mark’s coffee plan was also a reminder that the responsibility for education should fall more heavily on those who need it most. As Nikole put it at our events Sunday in Melbourne and Monday in Sydney, black and brown people consider and discuss race all the time; they’re not the ones who need more education and conversation — it’s the rest of us who could invest more in the subject.

A good place to start would be the “Colony Frontier Wars” exhibit at the NGV. The works from Australia’s contemporary Indigenous artists, in particular, provide an informative, visceral experience of history and its everyday impacts.

The image above, for example, is part of a series shot by Michael Cook, a Bidjara man who has said his work reverses reality and highlights “the lack of Indigenous representation within Parliament, the judicial system and the business world.”

Here are two other images from the series, which is called “Majority Rule.”

This week especially, the need for more education and discussion on race and equality seems striking. In much of the world, compassion and understanding are in retreat.

The United States is in the throes of a debate about the morality of separating immigrant children from their parents. In Germany, Bavarian conservatives threatened to take down the government of Angela Merkel to close the border to immigrants, in violation of European Union rules, while here in Australia, there are signs of a collective retrenchment.

Earlier this week, Australia’s race discrimination commissioner, Tim Soutphommasane, sent out an email responding to calls for an end to his position, or at least a renaming to make his replacement a “community relations commissioner.”

Pointing out that 20 percent of Australians said last year that they had experienced discrimination during the previous 12 months, he argued, “You can’t fight racism if you can’t even name it.”

We also learned this week that anti-immigrant sentiment in Australia is on the rise. This year’s Lowy Institute poll, which I wrote about here, found that most Australians (54 percent, up 14 points from last year) think the rate of immigration to Australia is too high.

And it appears to be tied to concerns about culture: A significant minority (41 percent) now say that “if Australia is too open to people from all over the world, we risk losing our identity as a nation.” For comparison’s sake, when Americans were asked the same question, 29 percent agreed that national identity would be threatened by being too open to the world.

What’s interesting, though, is that in both countries, there is a clear generational divide on issues of race and immigration. Young people, those 45 and under, are far more likely to prefer openness and diversity.

They are also increasingly turned off by the way their elders run things; less than half of Australians aged 18 to 44 said they preferred democracy to other forms of government, compared with 76 percent support for democracy among those 45 and over.

Anyone want to share their take on why that might be the case? (I have a few theories.)

In the meantime, here are our stories of the week, happy and sad, serious and silly. As always, join our Facebook group for more discussion and let us know what you think by emailing us at nytaustralia@nytimes.com.

______

Not sure I can improve on the lede of this story, so I’ll just quote it:

“It was supposed to be the day when President Emmanuel Macron of France received a long-awaited response from Germany on his big ideas on how to rekindle Europe as a force for liberalism in the world.

And he did, sort of.

But his meeting with Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany on Tuesday was overshadowed by the urgent issue of how to put out the growing number of populist fires over migration on the Continent — including in Germany itself.”

______

I’m not much of a reader about fashion; just not my thing. But I did find this Styles piece about movies with the best clothes remarkably compelling.

It made me realize that many of us do notice style and wardrobe even if we don’t think we do.

______

Join our reporters for a drink in Russia at the restaurant La Punto.

It is, by their account, “a Sochi gastro pub recommended to fans on the World Cup website that just so happens to be in the same building that housed the notorious antidoping laboratory at the center of one of the most elaborate cheating schemes in sports history.”

______

We also published a Q&A with Mr. Parr, which included this memorable exchange:

Q. What do you think of the state of art in Australia?

A. “It’s moribund. A lot of snap, crackle and pop but nothing of any real substance.”

In other Australia news …

• Huawei, the Chinese telecom, is fighting off both American and Australian resistance to skepticism about its products in what looks to some like a global technology Cold War.

• We covered the vigils for Eurydice Dixon, exploring the anger and frustration many women feel at being told they are supposed to be responsible for their own safety rather than demanding that men change their violent behavior.

• Highlights and more details from the Lowy Institute Poll are here with an obvious headline: Australia’s Anxiety About World Affairs.

• Patricia Fox, an Australian nun who has lived in the Philippines for many years, won a reprieve from a move to deport her that had the vocal support of President Rodrigo Duterte.

• In Opinion, George Megalogenis asks: Can Australia rise above xenophobia and forge a path to inclusion?

• Peter Thomson, the Australian who won five British Opens and became the only player in the 20th century to win that major in three consecutive years, died on Wednesday in Melbourne. Here’s his well-deserved New York Times obituary.

• And in this week’s Australia Diary: An Aussie introduces Vegemite to a Texan. Hilarity ensues. Sort of. (Yes we had to do it.)

______

… And We Recommend

The World Cup, obviously. Cheer for the Socceroos, sure, but we’ll also be cheering for Mexico, our former home, with a team that knocked off Germany in its first match.

Few countries with so many wonderful people and such a rich culture have been more abused as of late, by both the American government and their own government, so if you get a chance, give a shout to El Tri, as the team is know. Viva México!

Damien Cave is the new Australia bureau chief for The New York Times. He’s covered more than a dozen countries for The Times, including Mexico, Cuba, Iraq and Lebanon. Follow him on Twitter: @damiencave.

The post Talk Is Good, Action Is Better appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2loMffy via Breaking News

[newestbalance]

Talk Is Good, Action Is Better

The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter reflecting the experience (and quirks) of our Australia bureau chief, a Yank who’s convinced he has the best job in journalism. Sign up to get it by email and forward it to friends if you get the urge.

______

Talk is good, action is better.

If there was one theme to emerge from our public discussions this week about race and politics in Australia and the United States, it was the idea that conversation must be a prelude to activity, not an end unto itself.

What might that action look like?

Let me tell you about Mark Nannup.

After our event Sunday at the National Gallery of Victoria, he introduced himself to me and Nikole Hannah-Jones, the investigative reporter (and MacArthur Genius Grant winner) from The New York Times Magazine who flew from Brooklyn for our discussion.

Mark told us he was one of only a few Aboriginal Australians studying at the Victorian College of the Arts and as a result, he was often asked about the darker shades of Australian history: the massacres that defined early settlement, the segregation and discriminatory policies that followed, and the challenges tied to that history that still shape his people today.

He eventually grew tired of playing the educator so often to so many. But rather than retreat, he came up with an innovative solution: He persuaded a cafe called 8 Miles to provide vouchers for free meals to anyone who checked out a book from the university’s Indigenous Arts and Culture department.

“It’s an incentive to see who really cares and wants to learn,” he said. It was just a small thing, he added. An acting student with piercing eyes, he wasn’t looking for attention and was a bit surprised when I asked for his name.

But Nikole and I were both impressed. Here was individual action and creativity, deployed quietly for good.

Mark’s coffee plan was also a reminder that the responsibility for education should fall more heavily on those who need it most. As Nikole put it at our events Sunday in Melbourne and Monday in Sydney, black and brown people consider and discuss race all the time; they’re not the ones who need more education and conversation — it’s the rest of us who could invest more in the subject.

A good place to start would be the “Colony Frontier Wars” exhibit at the NGV. The works from Australia’s contemporary Indigenous artists, in particular, provide an informative, visceral experience of history and its everyday impacts.

The image above, for example, is part of a series shot by Michael Cook, a Bidjara man who has said his work reverses reality and highlights “the lack of Indigenous representation within Parliament, the judicial system and the business world.”

Here are two other images from the series, which is called “Majority Rule.”

This week especially, the need for more education and discussion on race and equality seems striking. In much of the world, compassion and understanding are in retreat.

The United States is in the throes of a debate about the morality of separating immigrant children from their parents. In Germany, Bavarian conservatives threatened to take down the government of Angela Merkel to close the border to immigrants, in violation of European Union rules, while here in Australia, there are signs of a collective retrenchment.

Earlier this week, Australia’s race discrimination commissioner, Tim Soutphommasane, sent out an email responding to calls for an end to his position, or at least a renaming to make his replacement a “community relations commissioner.”

Pointing out that 20 percent of Australians said last year that they had experienced discrimination during the previous 12 months, he argued, “You can’t fight racism if you can’t even name it.”

We also learned this week that anti-immigrant sentiment in Australia is on the rise. This year’s Lowy Institute poll, which I wrote about here, found that most Australians (54 percent, up 14 points from last year) think the rate of immigration to Australia is too high.

And it appears to be tied to concerns about culture: A significant minority (41 percent) now say that “if Australia is too open to people from all over the world, we risk losing our identity as a nation.” For comparison’s sake, when Americans were asked the same question, 29 percent agreed that national identity would be threatened by being too open to the world.

What’s interesting, though, is that in both countries, there is a clear generational divide on issues of race and immigration. Young people, those 45 and under, are far more likely to prefer openness and diversity.

They are also increasingly turned off by the way their elders run things; less than half of Australians aged 18 to 44 said they preferred democracy to other forms of government, compared with 76 percent support for democracy among those 45 and over.

Anyone want to share their take on why that might be the case? (I have a few theories.)

In the meantime, here are our stories of the week, happy and sad, serious and silly. As always, join our Facebook group for more discussion and let us know what you think by emailing us at nytaustralia@nytimes.com.

______

Not sure I can improve on the lede of this story, so I’ll just quote it:

“It was supposed to be the day when President Emmanuel Macron of France received a long-awaited response from Germany on his big ideas on how to rekindle Europe as a force for liberalism in the world.

And he did, sort of.

But his meeting with Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany on Tuesday was overshadowed by the urgent issue of how to put out the growing number of populist fires over migration on the Continent — including in Germany itself.”

______

I’m not much of a reader about fashion; just not my thing. But I did find this Styles piece about movies with the best clothes remarkably compelling.

It made me realize that many of us do notice style and wardrobe even if we don’t think we do.

______

Join our reporters for a drink in Russia at the restaurant La Punto.

It is, by their account, “a Sochi gastro pub recommended to fans on the World Cup website that just so happens to be in the same building that housed the notorious antidoping laboratory at the center of one of the most elaborate cheating schemes in sports history.”

______

We also published a Q&A with Mr. Parr, which included this memorable exchange:

Q. What do you think of the state of art in Australia?

A. “It’s moribund. A lot of snap, crackle and pop but nothing of any real substance.”

In other Australia news …

• Huawei, the Chinese telecom, is fighting off both American and Australian resistance to skepticism about its products in what looks to some like a global technology Cold War.

• We covered the vigils for Eurydice Dixon, exploring the anger and frustration many women feel at being told they are supposed to be responsible for their own safety rather than demanding that men change their violent behavior.

• Highlights and more details from the Lowy Institute Poll are here with an obvious headline: Australia’s Anxiety About World Affairs.

• Patricia Fox, an Australian nun who has lived in the Philippines for many years, won a reprieve from a move to deport her that had the vocal support of President Rodrigo Duterte.

• In Opinion, George Megalogenis asks: Can Australia rise above xenophobia and forge a path to inclusion?

• Peter Thomson, the Australian who won five British Opens and became the only player in the 20th century to win that major in three consecutive years, died on Wednesday in Melbourne. Here’s his well-deserved New York Times obituary.

• And in this week’s Australia Diary: An Aussie introduces Vegemite to a Texan. Hilarity ensues. Sort of. (Yes we had to do it.)

______

… And We Recommend

The World Cup, obviously. Cheer for the Socceroos, sure, but we’ll also be cheering for Mexico, our former home, with a team that knocked off Germany in its first match.

Few countries with so many wonderful people and such a rich culture have been more abused as of late, by both the American government and their own government, so if you get a chance, give a shout to El Tri, as the team is know. Viva México!

Damien Cave is the new Australia bureau chief for The New York Times. He’s covered more than a dozen countries for The Times, including Mexico, Cuba, Iraq and Lebanon. Follow him on Twitter: @damiencave.

The post Talk Is Good, Action Is Better appeared first on World The News.

from World The News https://ift.tt/2loMffy via Everyday News