From Eric Hale:
Carmen closed two days ago. I’m both somewhat blue and somewhat frantic.
Blue because the show is over. There’s something about being so focused on a goal. It makes me feel so alive – especially when I’m working with such a wonderful group of people. I miss them.
Frantic because all the parts of my life which I put on hold are screaming for attention. There are bills to pay, things to put away, preparations for my wife’s next business trip, and even more important things: I had a poignant moment on Monday when my son said “Can we talk? I haven’t seen you much this week.” You don’t hear that often from a 13 year old.
So, to quote a song written a century after the one in the title: “Back to life, back to reality”. Carmen was a success, but there's no time to dwell on that. Capital Opera is already preparing for “Amahl and the Night Visitors”. It opens in less than 2 months.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
All good things
From Eric Hale:
Today was our last performance. After all the weeks and all the work, it doesn’t seem real.
Once again, we were called to the theater about 2 hours before the show. People were a little slower to arrive this time. The general atmosphere in the dressing room area seems more relaxed and cheerier that on Friday. Maybe it was the good review. Maybe it was getting some rest. Don’t know, but I was sure in a great mood.
I have to say again, we were very lucky to have had the N&O review come out on Saturday, and even more lucky to have had it appear in the paper Sunday morning. That is a very rare thing when the run is as short as ours.
The preshow preparations were much like those I described for opening night, with putting on makeup, getting in costume, double checking parts of the score, hallway chatter and warm-ups.
Then it was show time, and it felt great. The crowd was large and enthusiastic – not at all the stereotypical sleepy matinee audience. Things felt tighter even than on opening night. It was a great way to finish, and it was over all too soon.
After the show, people cleared out pretty quickly. Many headed to the cast party at the house of Rollin and Jan Glaser. They generously provided the cast and crew with food and champagne. We partied for several hours, then we went our separate ways. I headed home, tired and happy, but also a bit blue. It’s all over so quickly. I shall miss this show a lot.
Today was our last performance. After all the weeks and all the work, it doesn’t seem real.
Once again, we were called to the theater about 2 hours before the show. People were a little slower to arrive this time. The general atmosphere in the dressing room area seems more relaxed and cheerier that on Friday. Maybe it was the good review. Maybe it was getting some rest. Don’t know, but I was sure in a great mood.
I have to say again, we were very lucky to have had the N&O review come out on Saturday, and even more lucky to have had it appear in the paper Sunday morning. That is a very rare thing when the run is as short as ours.
The preshow preparations were much like those I described for opening night, with putting on makeup, getting in costume, double checking parts of the score, hallway chatter and warm-ups.
Then it was show time, and it felt great. The crowd was large and enthusiastic – not at all the stereotypical sleepy matinee audience. Things felt tighter even than on opening night. It was a great way to finish, and it was over all too soon.
After the show, people cleared out pretty quickly. Many headed to the cast party at the house of Rollin and Jan Glaser. They generously provided the cast and crew with food and champagne. We partied for several hours, then we went our separate ways. I headed home, tired and happy, but also a bit blue. It’s all over so quickly. I shall miss this show a lot.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Our first review
This makes me happy:
Capital Opera succeeds with 'Carmen'
Thanks to Roy Dicks and The News and Observer for getting this review out so fast.
Eric
Capital Opera succeeds with 'Carmen'
Thanks to Roy Dicks and The News and Observer for getting this review out so fast.
Eric
Opening night
From Eric Hale:
Last night, Carmen opened. While I do not know how many tickets we sold, it looked like a lot of the seats were full. That is a very happy thing.
Although the show did not start until 7:30, preparations began much earlier for the cast and crew. Everyone has a “call time”, which is the time you are supposed to be at the theater. Different groups have different call times. For the chorus, it was 5:30. However, many of us arrived even earlier than that, too excited by opening night to stay home.
Anna, the makeup artist, had watched final dress rehearsal and concluded that our makeup needed to be darker. This became the running joke of the night, as people were sent back to make their makeup darker a second, third, or even fourth time.
Despite making up several times, most people were ready nearly an hour before show time. We studied our scores and chatted with other cast members. People wandered by, saying “toi, toi, toi” as they passed. “Toi, toi, toi” is the operatic equivalent of “break a leg”.
Warm-ups for the chorus started about 20 minutes before show time. After warm-ups, we went upstairs to take our places for the start of the show. The curtain does not stop the murmur of the crowd. I can’t speak for the others, but that sound always gives me a kick of adrenaline. Joel Adams, one of the founders of Capital Opera, gave a brief statement and the overture started.
About the show itself, I can only give you my impressions. Each performer’s experience is different, and I would not presume to speak for them.
As the curtain went up, I realized that we had a great crowd! The theater seemed packed. That felt really good. However, I left that thought go almost immediately. Angela entered, tried to sell me an orange, and then the men were singing.
After that, I was in the show. Time telescopes and every scene seems to take a very long time. Yet, as soon as I go off stage, it’s like no time has passed. Even off stage, time seems distorted. While on stage, my perceptions seem heightened – colors seem sharper, sounds clearer. That stops at the edge of the orchestra pit though, partly because of lighting and partly because my attention needs to be on the stage.
At the end of the night, I was very tired, very happy. The old saying is true: You don’t have any problems at the theater.
Afterward, a bunch of us went out. Some of my friends also came. We took over a big section of the Village Draft House. Unfortunately, the group was too big to all sit together. However, we circulated, talking to folks and having a good time.
My friends who saw the show really loved it, which was great to hear. They are far too honest a bunch to pretend.
Today we rest. Tomorrow is our final show. I can’t believe it.
Last night, Carmen opened. While I do not know how many tickets we sold, it looked like a lot of the seats were full. That is a very happy thing.
Although the show did not start until 7:30, preparations began much earlier for the cast and crew. Everyone has a “call time”, which is the time you are supposed to be at the theater. Different groups have different call times. For the chorus, it was 5:30. However, many of us arrived even earlier than that, too excited by opening night to stay home.
Anna, the makeup artist, had watched final dress rehearsal and concluded that our makeup needed to be darker. This became the running joke of the night, as people were sent back to make their makeup darker a second, third, or even fourth time.
Despite making up several times, most people were ready nearly an hour before show time. We studied our scores and chatted with other cast members. People wandered by, saying “toi, toi, toi” as they passed. “Toi, toi, toi” is the operatic equivalent of “break a leg”.
Warm-ups for the chorus started about 20 minutes before show time. After warm-ups, we went upstairs to take our places for the start of the show. The curtain does not stop the murmur of the crowd. I can’t speak for the others, but that sound always gives me a kick of adrenaline. Joel Adams, one of the founders of Capital Opera, gave a brief statement and the overture started.
About the show itself, I can only give you my impressions. Each performer’s experience is different, and I would not presume to speak for them.
As the curtain went up, I realized that we had a great crowd! The theater seemed packed. That felt really good. However, I left that thought go almost immediately. Angela entered, tried to sell me an orange, and then the men were singing.
After that, I was in the show. Time telescopes and every scene seems to take a very long time. Yet, as soon as I go off stage, it’s like no time has passed. Even off stage, time seems distorted. While on stage, my perceptions seem heightened – colors seem sharper, sounds clearer. That stops at the edge of the orchestra pit though, partly because of lighting and partly because my attention needs to be on the stage.
At the end of the night, I was very tired, very happy. The old saying is true: You don’t have any problems at the theater.
Afterward, a bunch of us went out. Some of my friends also came. We took over a big section of the Village Draft House. Unfortunately, the group was too big to all sit together. However, we circulated, talking to folks and having a good time.
My friends who saw the show really loved it, which was great to hear. They are far too honest a bunch to pretend.
Today we rest. Tomorrow is our final show. I can’t believe it.
Friday, October 17, 2008
A hint of magic
From Eric Hale:
Tonight was our final dress rehearsal. For the first time, all the technical pieces came together: sets, props, makeup, costumes, lights, orchestra. For the first time, we saw what the show is really going to look like.
This is a good time to talk about costumes and makeup. I’m not going to try and describe Ruth’s costumes, you really need to see them. However, it is now our job to protect them. The rules are pretty much common sense: Put your costume on after you put on your makeup. Don’t eat in costume, or at least wear a cover if you do. No drinking anything but water in costume - ever. A bathrobe will stop cookie crumbs, but coffee will go right through.
As for performing in the costumes: I can’t comment on costume issues for the women, but for most of the men in this show, the costumes are close enough to modern clothes not to present any problems. (This is not always the case. In Madama Butterfly, I had to worry about my satin kimono coming open at inopportune times.)
For this show, we need to look somewhat Spanish. For many of us, that means trying not to look “pasty” as Anna, the makeup artist, puts it. I’m used to how I look in my usual stage makeup, but I need to go darker. Wearing darker makeup means all the shadows and highlights have to be bolder. Before putting on the powder, which lightens and mutes the effect, you can feel pretty ridiculous looking in the mirror. However, the look really needs to be that extreme to compensate for the distance and the bright lights.
And yes, a dressing room full of men putting on makeup is every bit as self-conscious as you would think.
I know some of you noticed the qualifier “technical” above. All the pieces of the show weren’t there yet, but for good reasons. Two missing pieces deserve special mention:
First, some of the principals were marking. The chorus generally does not mark, because the demands on us are less. For those not familiar with the term, to mark is to use various means to save your voice. You might, for example, sing a high passage an octave lower or sing loud passages at a moderate or soft volume.
This is not laziness. In an ideal world, we would get a day off before the opera, just as a sports team takes it easy the day before a big game. However, the world is not ideal, and they are being asked to sing major roles four days in a row. Opera is hard to sing, and their first priority is to save their voices for the show. You will get to hear them at their best.
Second, there was no real audience, and there is no substitute for the energy an audience brings to the show. In live theater, the audience is part of the show, whether you think of yourselves that way or not. Every audience is unique, and that’s part of what makes every show unique. No matter how enthusiastic the cast, a show without an audience is only half alive.
For all of that qualification, wonderful things were happening tonight. The curtain came up, the light flooded in and we got a hint of the magic to come. Friday night, many of you will be part of that magic. Come make a show with us.
Tonight was our final dress rehearsal. For the first time, all the technical pieces came together: sets, props, makeup, costumes, lights, orchestra. For the first time, we saw what the show is really going to look like.
This is a good time to talk about costumes and makeup. I’m not going to try and describe Ruth’s costumes, you really need to see them. However, it is now our job to protect them. The rules are pretty much common sense: Put your costume on after you put on your makeup. Don’t eat in costume, or at least wear a cover if you do. No drinking anything but water in costume - ever. A bathrobe will stop cookie crumbs, but coffee will go right through.
As for performing in the costumes: I can’t comment on costume issues for the women, but for most of the men in this show, the costumes are close enough to modern clothes not to present any problems. (This is not always the case. In Madama Butterfly, I had to worry about my satin kimono coming open at inopportune times.)
For this show, we need to look somewhat Spanish. For many of us, that means trying not to look “pasty” as Anna, the makeup artist, puts it. I’m used to how I look in my usual stage makeup, but I need to go darker. Wearing darker makeup means all the shadows and highlights have to be bolder. Before putting on the powder, which lightens and mutes the effect, you can feel pretty ridiculous looking in the mirror. However, the look really needs to be that extreme to compensate for the distance and the bright lights.
And yes, a dressing room full of men putting on makeup is every bit as self-conscious as you would think.
I know some of you noticed the qualifier “technical” above. All the pieces of the show weren’t there yet, but for good reasons. Two missing pieces deserve special mention:
First, some of the principals were marking. The chorus generally does not mark, because the demands on us are less. For those not familiar with the term, to mark is to use various means to save your voice. You might, for example, sing a high passage an octave lower or sing loud passages at a moderate or soft volume.
This is not laziness. In an ideal world, we would get a day off before the opera, just as a sports team takes it easy the day before a big game. However, the world is not ideal, and they are being asked to sing major roles four days in a row. Opera is hard to sing, and their first priority is to save their voices for the show. You will get to hear them at their best.
Second, there was no real audience, and there is no substitute for the energy an audience brings to the show. In live theater, the audience is part of the show, whether you think of yourselves that way or not. Every audience is unique, and that’s part of what makes every show unique. No matter how enthusiastic the cast, a show without an audience is only half alive.
For all of that qualification, wonderful things were happening tonight. The curtain came up, the light flooded in and we got a hint of the magic to come. Friday night, many of you will be part of that magic. Come make a show with us.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Parallel Universes
From Eric Hale:
Aside from a brief makeup tutorial before rehearsal, the rehearsal was all about the orchestra. I may talk about makeup another time, but today’s post is about the orchestra as well.
The orchestra are all professional musicians and do not show up until a couple of days before the show. I never cease to be amazed at their ability to learn the music and play as a group in only a couple of days. That’s a level of skill I cannot imagine.
The cast and orchestra almost dwell in parallel universes. I got a taste of just how different the orchestra experience is during Capital Opera’s performance of Madama Butterfly. We sang the Humming Chorus from the orchestra pit. While I had been in an orchestra pit before, I had never been in one when the musicians were in place and certainly not during a show.
The first shock was discovering how little the musicians can hear the singers. Not only are the singers directing their sound up and out, but there is a thick, sound dampening floor between them and the orchestra. And, of course, there is a lot of sound in the pit itself. This drove home something I had heard conductors say, but never really thought about: The conductor is the link. He’s the only one who hears everything. It’s important to watch him not only because he picks the tempo, not only because we want a consistent interpretation of the music, but literally he’s the only one who knows what’s really going on.
The second shock was how cramped it is in there. As actors, we’re concerned with filling the stage, and the stage can seem vast when there are only a few of are up there. The inside of the pit was like the inside of a mechanical watch. I remember particularly the string players, each so precisely positioned so that they could bow without elbowing someone in the face. For some reason, it’s easy to forget how confined they are when you only see the musicians from above.
Last night’s rehearsal was the orchestra’s first time working as a group and our first time to hear what the music will sound like on opening night. We had monitors on stage, which made it much easier to hear. However, as I said earlier, this rehearsal really wasn’t about us. Wayne’s focus was on the orchestra. We started and stopped a number of times as they worked out the tempo changes, entrances, etc. They were covering a lot of material very rapidly, and seeming to get almost always it after hearing it once. Amazing.
The orchestra rehearsal ended promptly at 10:00. Wayne is very good about not having rehearsals run long, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rehearsal with orchestra run long. Not anywhere, not ever. The cast worked on one entrance after the orchestra left, set the final bow and went home.
Final dress rehearsal is tonight: one last time to get everything right.
Aside from a brief makeup tutorial before rehearsal, the rehearsal was all about the orchestra. I may talk about makeup another time, but today’s post is about the orchestra as well.
The orchestra are all professional musicians and do not show up until a couple of days before the show. I never cease to be amazed at their ability to learn the music and play as a group in only a couple of days. That’s a level of skill I cannot imagine.
The cast and orchestra almost dwell in parallel universes. I got a taste of just how different the orchestra experience is during Capital Opera’s performance of Madama Butterfly. We sang the Humming Chorus from the orchestra pit. While I had been in an orchestra pit before, I had never been in one when the musicians were in place and certainly not during a show.
The first shock was discovering how little the musicians can hear the singers. Not only are the singers directing their sound up and out, but there is a thick, sound dampening floor between them and the orchestra. And, of course, there is a lot of sound in the pit itself. This drove home something I had heard conductors say, but never really thought about: The conductor is the link. He’s the only one who hears everything. It’s important to watch him not only because he picks the tempo, not only because we want a consistent interpretation of the music, but literally he’s the only one who knows what’s really going on.
The second shock was how cramped it is in there. As actors, we’re concerned with filling the stage, and the stage can seem vast when there are only a few of are up there. The inside of the pit was like the inside of a mechanical watch. I remember particularly the string players, each so precisely positioned so that they could bow without elbowing someone in the face. For some reason, it’s easy to forget how confined they are when you only see the musicians from above.
Last night’s rehearsal was the orchestra’s first time working as a group and our first time to hear what the music will sound like on opening night. We had monitors on stage, which made it much easier to hear. However, as I said earlier, this rehearsal really wasn’t about us. Wayne’s focus was on the orchestra. We started and stopped a number of times as they worked out the tempo changes, entrances, etc. They were covering a lot of material very rapidly, and seeming to get almost always it after hearing it once. Amazing.
The orchestra rehearsal ended promptly at 10:00. Wayne is very good about not having rehearsals run long, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rehearsal with orchestra run long. Not anywhere, not ever. The cast worked on one entrance after the orchestra left, set the final bow and went home.
Final dress rehearsal is tonight: one last time to get everything right.
Stay in Character
by shiangtai, a member in the chorus
As Eric has pointed out in some of the earlier postings, it is important to stay in your character in a show. The principals all have their specific roles to fill. However, as Eric pointed out, there is the difficulty for a chorus member to assume a character. Who am I?
In a grogram of a Gilbert-Sullivan shows I was in, you might see, among the bois, while other people showed off their various stage experiences, mine was something like this: "He was Shanghaied by the Pirates of Penzance at age of 16, sold to the land of Mikado, rescued by the sailors of H M S Pinafore, and was left in Italy. That is why he is one of the Gondoliers now."
It is much harder in this show. Not having done as much research on 1830's Spanish history, I have no way to know the Asian population in Seville at that time. (I did try Google "Chinese Population Spain 1830" but it got me nowhere. Google is not as powerful as I thought!) Did Marco Polo (1254 – 1324) bring back some Chinese servants or soldiers to Europe? Is there any trace that they left any descendants in Spain? Possibly, you might say. The path Marco polo traveled is now called the “Silk Road”. Though I went on a tour to the "Silk Road" region in China, I still do not know much about the majority part of the "Silk Road" which extends across Middle East all the way from Beijing to Rome. I think the trade was done in sections back then. The European merchants went as far as Near East (a later term). The Middle Eastern tradesmen went to China. And the Chinese? Being in the richest and most civilized country (back then), they were not interested in trading. They simply sat home and used silk and Chinaware as everyday commodities. It was the "foreign" merchants who came and bought silk or Chinaware. As far as I know, direct Chinese influence and immigration only extended to South East Asia. For a stage set for Spain, I would have to pretend to be a Chinese ambassador or a Chinese astrologer (as I did in some of the Renaissance Faires in Raleigh) if it were a show about the elite, but not this show about "common people". You see, it is hard enough to find one character to fit the show already and I need four. Why four?
This is a story about Carmen and Jose's entangled love live and four stages of their adventures, starting the moment Carmen threw him a flower at the door of the factory, continuing as they were in a Gypsy tavern, joining the revolution, ending at the final scene out side the arena. On stage, we are the back ground by which to mark those places.
In the first act, other than the soldiers, the chorus men are lazy bums to come "meet" with the poor but flirty cigarette factory girls. In second act, we are groupies of Escamillo, the bullfighter, running around party hopping, you know, the Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, and their rich friends type. In the third act, Carmen and Jose encountered and joined the smuggler/revolutionaries, something like the Symbionese Liberation Army. Hey, citizen of the universe with our free will as the law! Who does not like that? In the fourth act, we are the family type. We go, with wives and children, to the most popular entertainment of the time; go see the well dressed Picadors stick colorful lances to the side of the bull to draw blood; and go see the much admired and worshiped Escamillo to kill the bull with one thrust of his fine sword (from the libretto).
Now, for my characters: (The following history is made-up) Say, after the Inquisition, it is no longer dangerous in Spain and people started to go there. Let my character in Act I be some one who just came to Spain either from China or from a neighboring country, you know, the first generation migrant type. He is, say, either a Chinese medicine man or an astrologer. He made a lot of money by working hard giving false or superstitious advices to people though he honestly believed in those talks himself. Things never change, do they? Only that they are in California now. Every afternoon he would leave behind his work, wife, and children to go find some entertainment at the town square. Didn't I say things never change? In act two, let my character be none other but this above-mentioned, first generation migrant's son, a second generation migrant. We know them [sic] type too. He wants to get away as far as possible from his parents' old culture. He despises his father's entertainment at the town square but not his father's money. So, he goes to the most popular Gypsy tavern in town, mixing with the Paris Hiltons and Britney Spearses of the time. As for the third act, we can use the theory that my character is one of the descendants of merchants from Marco Polo's period. It was hard to survive the Inquisition (about the time of and extended until long after Marco Polo). Anything you did that your priest did not like was called blasphemy and your head could be chopped off. A Chinese, even after converted into Christianity, might still keep some portraits of their ancestors. That would be enough to win a death penalty. As a result, many of them, along with Jews and other foreigners, were either killed, moved away, or became fugitive. My character is one of these "undocumented". He runs around with a bunch of smuggler and thieves who call themselves freedom fighters, living under the sky, endures a lot of hardship but makes good drug money, perhaps. Now, for the fourth act. Well, the Inquisition was long time ago, even for the 1830s (almost 500 year has past). Some of the Chinese survived alright and some others came out of hiding. They were, after all, good people. My character in the fourth act is one of their descendants. He is a good man, works hard, goes to church, i.e., goes to masses, married a local, and was accepted well in the local society. Like others in his adopted society, he has even picked up the habit of going to the football games, I mean, the bullfights. Prends Garde a toi!
As Eric has pointed out in some of the earlier postings, it is important to stay in your character in a show. The principals all have their specific roles to fill. However, as Eric pointed out, there is the difficulty for a chorus member to assume a character. Who am I?
In a grogram of a Gilbert-Sullivan shows I was in, you might see, among the bois, while other people showed off their various stage experiences, mine was something like this: "He was Shanghaied by the Pirates of Penzance at age of 16, sold to the land of Mikado, rescued by the sailors of H M S Pinafore, and was left in Italy. That is why he is one of the Gondoliers now."
It is much harder in this show. Not having done as much research on 1830's Spanish history, I have no way to know the Asian population in Seville at that time. (I did try Google "Chinese Population Spain 1830" but it got me nowhere. Google is not as powerful as I thought!) Did Marco Polo (1254 – 1324) bring back some Chinese servants or soldiers to Europe? Is there any trace that they left any descendants in Spain? Possibly, you might say. The path Marco polo traveled is now called the “Silk Road”. Though I went on a tour to the "Silk Road" region in China, I still do not know much about the majority part of the "Silk Road" which extends across Middle East all the way from Beijing to Rome. I think the trade was done in sections back then. The European merchants went as far as Near East (a later term). The Middle Eastern tradesmen went to China. And the Chinese? Being in the richest and most civilized country (back then), they were not interested in trading. They simply sat home and used silk and Chinaware as everyday commodities. It was the "foreign" merchants who came and bought silk or Chinaware. As far as I know, direct Chinese influence and immigration only extended to South East Asia. For a stage set for Spain, I would have to pretend to be a Chinese ambassador or a Chinese astrologer (as I did in some of the Renaissance Faires in Raleigh) if it were a show about the elite, but not this show about "common people". You see, it is hard enough to find one character to fit the show already and I need four. Why four?
This is a story about Carmen and Jose's entangled love live and four stages of their adventures, starting the moment Carmen threw him a flower at the door of the factory, continuing as they were in a Gypsy tavern, joining the revolution, ending at the final scene out side the arena. On stage, we are the back ground by which to mark those places.
In the first act, other than the soldiers, the chorus men are lazy bums to come "meet" with the poor but flirty cigarette factory girls. In second act, we are groupies of Escamillo, the bullfighter, running around party hopping, you know, the Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, and their rich friends type. In the third act, Carmen and Jose encountered and joined the smuggler/revolutionaries, something like the Symbionese Liberation Army. Hey, citizen of the universe with our free will as the law! Who does not like that? In the fourth act, we are the family type. We go, with wives and children, to the most popular entertainment of the time; go see the well dressed Picadors stick colorful lances to the side of the bull to draw blood; and go see the much admired and worshiped Escamillo to kill the bull with one thrust of his fine sword (from the libretto).
Now, for my characters: (The following history is made-up) Say, after the Inquisition, it is no longer dangerous in Spain and people started to go there. Let my character in Act I be some one who just came to Spain either from China or from a neighboring country, you know, the first generation migrant type. He is, say, either a Chinese medicine man or an astrologer. He made a lot of money by working hard giving false or superstitious advices to people though he honestly believed in those talks himself. Things never change, do they? Only that they are in California now. Every afternoon he would leave behind his work, wife, and children to go find some entertainment at the town square. Didn't I say things never change? In act two, let my character be none other but this above-mentioned, first generation migrant's son, a second generation migrant. We know them [sic] type too. He wants to get away as far as possible from his parents' old culture. He despises his father's entertainment at the town square but not his father's money. So, he goes to the most popular Gypsy tavern in town, mixing with the Paris Hiltons and Britney Spearses of the time. As for the third act, we can use the theory that my character is one of the descendants of merchants from Marco Polo's period. It was hard to survive the Inquisition (about the time of and extended until long after Marco Polo). Anything you did that your priest did not like was called blasphemy and your head could be chopped off. A Chinese, even after converted into Christianity, might still keep some portraits of their ancestors. That would be enough to win a death penalty. As a result, many of them, along with Jews and other foreigners, were either killed, moved away, or became fugitive. My character is one of these "undocumented". He runs around with a bunch of smuggler and thieves who call themselves freedom fighters, living under the sky, endures a lot of hardship but makes good drug money, perhaps. Now, for the fourth act. Well, the Inquisition was long time ago, even for the 1830s (almost 500 year has past). Some of the Chinese survived alright and some others came out of hiding. They were, after all, good people. My character in the fourth act is one of their descendants. He is a good man, works hard, goes to church, i.e., goes to masses, married a local, and was accepted well in the local society. Like others in his adopted society, he has even picked up the habit of going to the football games, I mean, the bullfights. Prends Garde a toi!
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