Monday, August 31, 2009

Beautiful Agony Free Preview

SANTA LUCIA-date press


“La vicenda del brefotrofio di Santa Lucia della Bella Speranza, accanto al suo valore di complaint, his set an example of civic theater, is developed as a powerful representative of the time, made up of knowledgeable and engaging rhythms, which is able to expand until it became a metaphor for a world on the edge that becomes our "
Nicola Viesti - Hystrio

"Surprise and excitement, delirium, short memory and invention, painful passion that you grant to smiling, bodies and voices to concert music. So Sara Sun builds its architecture jagged paths and deep emotions. Theatre can do evil with kindness. For depth and understanding "
Giulio Baffi La Repubblica, Naples

"Taverna East still retains its highly personal vein, difficult due to coded models. (...) The style of sharp Notarbartolo is reaffirmed in the intensity of those crooked little figures, which emerge from the shadows as memories spectrum, in the naturalness with which flank the floor to the sound of their instruments "
Renato Palazzi Del Teatro

" A civic theater far from the coldness of the chronicle that draws gesture to life and a taste for the theatrical play with energy and freshness rare "
Simona Spaventa - The Republic - Milan

" At this show we laugh, we sing with heart and almost crying. Abandonment becomes poetry and the luminous beauty of the gesture makes the painful matter. "
Natasha Day Corriere del Mezzogiorno"


"Again Sara Sun once Notarbartolo combines, in an exemplary fashion, theater news and calendar, and its drama, rigorous and careful, is intended to cause a profound reflection on our current political situation and reminds us, in some respects, the drama documentary by Peter Weiss . - Siano Marcella - Teatro.org

"(...) there are sounds, voices, smells, colors, and various human races and games, poetry, and anger, children and old old, friendships, jealousies and conflicts, hopes, prayers, liturgies, dreams, fears and expectations. And there is pain, real pain, stop, deaf "
Paul Randazzo Dramma.it



History
The orphanage of" Saint Lucia Bella of Hope "is on fire. Unique
investigated four kids from the faces and frightened eyes that sincere Institute also continued to live after it was closed.
During interrogation it turns out that they had cans of gasoline, explosives, matches and suitcases ready by the door. What
in the past when there were still priests, had already shown some love for the fire.
What have every reason to achieve their criminal plan. What
But in reality, most likely, they are completely innocent.


Foreword by real
a state law (the 149 of 2001) decided on 31 December 2007, the closing of all residential institutions for children or their conversion into family home. Without anyone saying anything this "innovation" involved some 200 this year, with more than 2,600 children inside.
is not just for orphans but children for various reasons can not live with their parents and are hard to enter the lists of adoptability.
family houses, which are created by the best intentions, structures are fragile, with no protection against family violence, families of the Camorra, of private profit: Each child pays a monthly amount and they are already fairly frequent reports of side structures in which a variable number of children is kept on the edge of hunger, and with no care.
What is happening is that the abandonment of children is also becoming abandonment of their host structures, these structures have less political clout, the operators are left without salaries for months, the famous diary, which make a lot of groove to some criminals very often are suspended and the dispensations of these places remain empty, the shoes are broken, the notebooks can not be bought. And all this
sta avvenendo nel più totale silenzio.
Non se ne parla, non se ne scrive, non se ne sa: non è successo niente.


Il progetto
Santa Lucia della Bella Speranza è un progetto che prende vita in Italia e muove i primi passi in Bosnia, a Mostar, all’interno dell’orfanotrofio Egiptian Village, in cui abbiamo avuto la possibilità di incontrare, di guardare negli occhi, i protagonisti della storia che stavamo raccontando.
Lì abbiamo offerto un laboratorio teatrale e in cambio abbiamo avuto la possibilità di scoprire davvero, dal di dentro, come può essere la vita di una comunità di bambini senza genitori.
Siamo rimasti stupiti da tutta la forza di these little people and it is this constant reference that we have begun to define the personality and the possible lives of the four orphans that we are telling.
The drama was born in this experience is defined in the play and ended in Argentina in the province of Buenos Aires where other eyes of other stories have been the missing piece, the final act.



tavern tavern east
est@yahoo.it;
3891503623
www.teatrotaverna.blogspot.com

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Thyromegaly Picttures

PROCIDA RESIDENTIAL WORKSHOP WILL BE DIRECTED BY THE SUN Notarbartolo


from 7 to 11 September.

info
tavernaest@yahoo.it

Monday, July 27, 2009

How To Register Sims 3 Bought Online

penutilmo The solitary journey


Today someone help me?

Charlie sported a recurrence, anonymous, and lonely wandering, in procinto di salire sul tram. Da quando si era trasferito, la foule folle di Roma aveva sempre provocato in lui la claustrofobica sensazione di morire soffocato, come se il viso venisse avvolto in una busta di plastica. Era abituato ai piccoli centri Charlie, in cui le persone si prendono vicendevolmente cura. Attonito, osservava il susseguirsi di irrefrenabili pensieri angoscianti.

Forse la ragazza con la quale sono uscito qualche sera fa. Oggi, forse, si ricorderà di me. Potrebbe, casualmente, attraversare la stessa strada che abbiamo percorso insieme e, alla vista del lampione sotto cui ci siamo abbracciati, non riuscirà a non rivolgermi il suo pensiero. Forse.

kept repeating Charlie taking place in the car. Observed around them, each with a dark look like lonely face down, hands tighten myriad of books and mp3 players.

Not everyone has the courage to hear your thoughts. Not everyone has the courage to communicate what they feel the presence of strangers.


Surprised, I admired a few people discuss, two boys smiling, a little doubt.


Maybe you have so someone who does not need to wish any .

Too many days had passed, her eyes embedded in the ceiling in a dark room, hoping that someone was.


Maybe it will be a longtime friend to remember me. Unwittingly finds himself flipping through a photo album and do not resist the desire to call me. Or maybe it will be one of those friends, gone too fast for my life, to feel my lack .


was a strong sense of loneliness, in the dispersed city. An ant in search of food, flattered but foundered in the oil, here as he used to be called Charlie.


In the past I've had someone


while Charlie continued to repeat the thought of a razor, paved new roads in and out of the maelstrom of repressed his pain.

Maybe if I am smitten by her arms, walking down the street someone would notice my long sleeves in summer. Perhaps, wondering why and when to costrettomi bare arms, trying to speak .


conspired Thoughts so that, unrestrained, stepped in if the need to communicate.
- "you know someone who does not need anyone?" - Churches Charlie gazing, the old lady sitting in front of him.
With a groan of dismay the woman turned him an expression of contempt, and then redirect our gaze to the window.


Nothing comparably suffering Charlie had never felt that the reflection of a dormant form of 'indifference. Hurriedly rushed to the front door of the car getting ready to go down. His eyes ripple of tears. All around was inevitably obscure. But it was as if he lost any what sense had never been so clear until now.


Every spends his life painting a sense, any sense not to make it more bearable. This is the meaning of my loneliness, lack of meaning of my life caged. Dodging ambulatory
countless eyes, once found a house, a sheet posted on the door that says, "It would only be enough for some, maybe."


Besides hiding all feeling a liquid torment. In the face of a fragmented insane pain, lonely. Days were still looking in the mirror disavowing his image, in that reflection in the black skin and bones mirror. The mystification of anxiety led him to debating the smallest glimmer of hope that was preparing to close the microscopic beat of her lashes, fragile. Maybe he just needed to try something else. Love someone, love for himself, universal love.

grabbing a kitchen knife, he closed his eyes, penetrated the abdomen, felt the cold blade right into the intestine.

fell on the ground and breathed his last.