In the morning we sit around a table to read, read again and then recite the script of the performance from memory. When we reach the end, there’s a five-minute pause, then we start again.

The third, fourth time, the performance became a type of song that tended to draw you towards a state of meditation (I obviously didn’t have lines, so I just listened).

The Mozambicans are improving daily, it seems that the night is magical for absorbing the instructions they received the day before. After having positioned the actors for a scene, the next day they would go to that same position, there was almost always no need to repeat the same thing twice…

Think about a genetic predisposition for art, a new theory… 🙂

If we could create the genetic mapping of these people I believe that we would almost certainly find genes dressed as clowns, or wearing their traditional masks.

If the scientific community doesn’t agree, come and see with your own eyes!

* * *

Afternoon. We commemorated the loss of a relative of one of the actors by going to Church at the same moment in which the “official” funeral was being held in Mozambique.

A song in the traditional Maputo language, three prayers, lovely words about losing and gaining (obviously not money!), Mario who sang an ode to death that was written by St. Francis of Assisi, Bruno who reads a poem.
My stomach gave a flip!

* * *

Evening. Rehearsals, but there was no energy.

I grouped the actors into a circle, just like in a rugby match, and said that I understood the moment, I understood their sadness and that if they wanted they could bury themselves in their acting. Theatre’s like that…

The second rehearsal was like a river in full flow. For the first time the actors pulled out their voices and a persistent rhythm.

Even today, in spite of everything, the rehearsal went well. Tomorrow, we start off from here.